Coming to Terms

Elerrina sat on the swing-seat that had been placed for her under the spreading branches of the old oak and listened to the song of the breeze in its branches and enjoyed the tree’s welcome as her hands stroked the huge expanse of her belly.  Unable to rest at night, when the two elflings with whom she had been gifted seemed intent on dancing their way to the time of their birth, she found herself increasingly inclined to doze her way through the morning hours.

‘I have brought you some milk,’ her naneth said, rousing her from her reverie.

Elerrina gave a little grimace.

‘I know,’ Linevende sympathised.  ‘It is not my favourite concoction either.  But Celebrian says that you need to take it.  Treat it as medicine and drink it down quickly.’

‘It is not that bad,’ her daughter said bravely, as she sipped at the glass.  ‘It is better than trying to force myself to eat now.  At least the liquid seems to fit into what little space is left.’

Her mother laughed and joined her on the seat.  ‘Where is your husband, my daughter?’

‘You need not worry,’ she answered dryly.  ‘I sent him off for a while with enough tasks to keep him occupied that I may expect an hour or two safe from his anxiety.  He will not return to the tug-of-war just yet.’

Linevende flushed.  ‘I am sorry, child – but it is not entirely my fault.  I am delighted to see that your adar-in-law has taken you to his heart – he is not the easiest of elves and I was concerned that he would make you miserable – but neither he nor his son are happy to have me here. And it is not comfortable to live surrounded by such disapproval.  It makes me sharp.’

‘They would not be so disapproving had you not made so much fuss about my marrying Legolas in the first place,’ Elerrina remarked, putting down the empty glass and recommencing the slow massage of her distended abdomen.  ‘I have often wondered why it seemed to cause you so much distress.’

Her naneth shrugged.  ‘Apart from the fact that both your adar and I would have preferred you to wed a nice Noldor lord and set up home nearby?  There were many things. For one thing, Legolas is a warrior – he has killed many times and his experiences have left scars. No-one who has seen slaughter wishes to have their children exposed to its effects. For another, he is the offspring of a marred land, from which the Valar have withdrawn their presence.  Who knows how that might have affected him?  On top of that, he has rather a reputation – he spent years in close company with a dwarf, even having sufficient boldness to bring him to these lands – and he was known for avoiding ellyth.’  She stopped, meeting her daughter’s eyes, seeing a lack of understanding and continuing.  ‘I was afraid that he was not really interested in you – that all he wanted was heirs for his house and that he was forced to look outside his people, because none there would choose to marry him.’

Slow comprehension dawned over Elerrina’s face.  ‘I do not know whether that explanation would make matters any better between you, naneth,’ she said finally, before breaking into wild giggles.  ‘I can assure you that there are many ellyth here who were most upset when my husband removed himself from the list of available elves,’ she added. ‘And that he is, indeed, very affectionate.’

‘I am glad to hear it,’ her naneth shrugged.  ‘Though I have now observed that for myself.’

‘And he is a loyal and loving friend,’ Elerrina went on.  ‘He would never abandon one for whom he cared, because it was inconvenient or because someone disapproved of their relationship.’

‘I am aware,’ Linevende commented, ‘that, in your opinion, Legolas possesses all good qualities.  I am glad to see that he makes you happy – and it is not necessary, fortunately, for him to like me.’

Her daughter’s hand slipped into hers.  ‘It may not be necessary, naneth,’ she sighed, ‘but it would increase my happiness a hundredfold.  I do not like to feel that I am the bone between two snarling dogs.’

‘Then I suppose we must see what we can do,’ her naneth sighed. ‘Although it will not be easy.  But now you need rest, my sweeting.   Here, lean against me and take your ease.’  Linevende laced her fingers in her daughter’s and lifted her other hand to stroke the chestnut hair gently, joining her voice softly with the song around her and watching as Elerrina relaxed.  She continued to hum as she enjoyed this moment of closeness with her child, knowing that, even as their bond had changed when Elerrina wed, it was again about to alter as she became a naneth herself.

Thranduil watched from the window of his study, the distance enough to diminish the personalities of the two, but the sight sufficient to bring sharply into focus in his mind the memory of two similar figures taking comfort from each other’s company a few short days before his son’s birth.  He was unprepared for the sudden sharpness of the pang that struck him.  Even after all this time, the loss of his wife, of Legolas’s mother, had the power to cut deep. 

‘She seems content,’ he said softly.  ‘Elrond was right to say she needed her naneth’s presence.  It is a small price to pay for having Elerrina happy.’  He turned, caught the expression on his son’s face and laughed.  ‘You are not suffering that badly, Legolas. Linevende may not be too fond of you, but she loves your wife dearly and is doing her best to keep the peace.’

‘It is less of a peace than an armed neutrality, adar,’ Legolas remarked. ‘Each of us has a blade at the other’s throat, but we are both holding back.’

‘Look, my son,’ Thranduil insisted.  ‘Look at them together and then tell me you wish to keep up your childish war.  Your wife needs the approval of you both – and it makes it harder for her when you are snapping at each other.’   He turned back to the window. ‘Children learn from their parents, Legolas.  If you dislike Elerrina’s parents so much, those elflings will observe that and believe that it is all right to respond to others with contempt and mockery. Your wife’s naneth is no spider, my son,’ he added pointedly.

‘Ah – you heard of that,’ Legolas said, somewhat shamefaced.

‘And if I heard, then you may be assured that it would take very little to have your witticisms spread among all your acquaintance.  How would that make Linevende feel?  Do you not think it might perpetuate the hostility between our houses?  What would your wife think if your words were to be reported to her?’

His son joined him at the window.  ‘Elerrina said that her naneth was comforted to learn your lack of enthusiasm for her was exceeded by your dislike of Lady Galadriel,’ he observed.  ‘It made her feel less alone.  I am not the only one at fault here.’ 

Thranduil inclined his head in acknowledgement.  ‘My problem has little to do with Linevende,’ he said.  ‘This time reminds me of your naneth.  Memories I have buried for many long centuries, that hurt as they resurface.  I see her face before me constantly and hear her voice.  It does not make me very good company.’  He turned his face away and confessed, ‘It breaks my heart that you do not remember her.’

‘I sometimes think I do recall certain things – a fragrance, or a song, or the touch of a hand,’ Legolas said seriously, ‘but I suspect I am deluding myself.  I was too young to have any real recollection.’

‘When I look at them together,’ his adar told him, ‘it reminds me of Laerwen sitting with her naneth – and sharing those things that only they could.  I had hoped,’ he sighed softly, his voice low with yearning, ‘that she would be here for me standing on the shore, as she was in all my dreams since you were an elfling yourself.  But I wait for her still.’

Instantly, Legolas enfolded his adar in a strong hug, offering what comfort he could, whilst knowing that, in exposing his vulnerability, Thranduil had done him great honour.  It was too easy to be deceived by the apparent aggression of the Woodland King, to see his ferocity and to miss the caring adar and the loyal husband.  Thranduil did little to disabuse people of the idea that it was perilous to cross him, but those who knew him best were aware that, while he was never more dangerous than when his loved ones were threatened, to his family he offered a consistent devotion.

‘At least, at the moment you have only to win over Linevende,’ he said, clearing his throat.  ‘Do not forget that shortly Elerrina’s adar will be arriving to await the birth. You do not want to give them a chance to unite against you.’

‘You have a point,’ his son conceded.  ‘I will make the attempt.’

‘Go now,’ Thranduil suggested, ‘while you are ready.  Take her some wine or something.  Let Elerrina see you try.’

As he watched his son cross the lawn, he allowed himself to drift in memory to the days of his greatest happiness.  ‘I still miss you with every breath,’ he murmured, before sitting at his desk and permitting himself to open a drawer that he generally kept locked, to sift lovingly through its contents: some of the few things he had bothered to bring with him in his journey across the sea, real treasures that outweighed every jewel he had ever possessed – letters, a lock of her hair, flowers that she had worn, the tiny robe she had embroidered for her son, little things that tore at his heart.

Linevende looked up at the tall blond elf and placed a finger on her lips.  He nodded with understanding and offered her a glass of ruby wine, which she accepted with a nod of thanks.  He lowered himself silently to the grass in front of the seat and took a sip from his own glass.  She was interested to notice that the glass brought for Elerrina clearly contained more milk and her expression lightened at this evidence of her daughter’s husband’s care for her and his willingness to bear her displeasure in pursuit of her health. 

He was undeniably good-looking, she thought, although she preferred the darker looks of the Noldor, and the planes of his face were interesting rather than vapid as she had once thought.  His face softened as his blue eyes inspected his wife, dozing with her eyes half-shut in her body’s attempt to keep up with the demands of her pregnancy.

‘She is not sleeping well,’ he said, his voice so quiet that she could barely catch his words.

‘It is almost impossible to rest comfortably at this time,’ she replied in the same tones. ‘And it must be far more difficult with two.  Lady Celebrian said she hardly slept at all in the last month.’

Legolas hesitated, considering whether it would be enough to speak pleasantly to his naneth-in-law and allow her to work out that he wished to be on better terms, or whether it would be better to put his resolution into words.

Before he came to any conclusion, Linevende spoke.  ‘I have been thinking,’ she said and looked at him keenly before lowering her eyes to the glass in her hand. ‘I would like to apologise to you for my – reluctance to receive you into my family.’  She paused briefly and continued, ‘I have come to appreciate that you are indeed the right husband for my daughter.  You make her very happy, Legolas – and I would like, belatedly, I know, to welcome you as my son.’

He reddened, and, for a moment, her heart sank as she thought that her approach was about to be rejected, but he gave a soft embarrassed laugh.  ‘I, too, am sorry, Linevende,’ he told her.  ‘I have allowed the breach to continue instead of seeking reconciliation, even though I knew it was painful for Elerrina.  I have allowed you to remain unhappy in my adar’s house, ignoring the laws of hospitality.  I have allowed you to take the first step in learning to be friends.  I am ashamed of myself.’

An awkward silence hung between them for a few moments.  Linevende sipped her wine and looked at her lap.  Legolas ran his hand backwards and forwards over the short grass several times before adding, ‘I am honoured to be welcomed into your family and I would like to assure you that you will always be part of mine.’

He looked up to see his wife’s green eyes inspecting him with a gratitude that warmed him and more than repaid him for his words.  ‘Thank you,’ she said simply, smiling at him and clasping her naneth’s hand. 

In response he handed her the glass of milk.  ‘I suppose I cannot complain,’ she sighed with resignation.  ‘I would rather have you two on agreeable terms, even if it means drinking more of this insipid stuff.’

‘That is a good thing,’ he told her.  ‘I believe there is plenty more to coax into you.  And, as Elrond advised, I believe there is fish for lunch.  It may require the efforts of both of us to get you to eat that.’ 

She pulled a face.  ‘I do not see why I should be forced to eat those things I particularly dislike just because I am pregnant,’ she said. ‘Surely it would be a much better idea to seek out things I crave – like blackberries and asparagus.’  She struggled to raise herself to her feet, aided by her naneth’s hand.  ‘I will leave you for a while.  No!’ she added sharply as they both made to rise. ‘This at least I can still manage by myself.’  She waddled away with the ungainly movement of the very pregnant, as they watched in concerned silence.

Linevende forced herself to remain seated.  ‘She should not be on her own,’ she fretted. 

‘I will go after her in a minute,’ her son-in-law said.  ‘Let us just give her enough time that she cannot say we are following her.’  He grinned.  ‘It is a very delicate balancing act, is it not?  Between keeping her safe and driving her to distraction.’

‘It is,’ Linevende agreed. ‘And whatever choices you make, you will inevitably be in the wrong. Too much care or too little – at the moment, both will exasperate her.’

‘I am glad,’ Legolas remarked, ‘that we have decided to – abandon hostilities.’ His wife’s naneth stiffened slightly. ‘It means that I feel able to solicit your assistance in another project that I sense will shortly be required of me.’ He looked up, his blue eyes rueful.  ‘I believe that Elerrina would also prefer me to be on good terms with her adar.  Tell me, Linevende – is there any way that I can convince Taryatur that I should not be thrown to the wolves?’

She put back her head and laughed, a full-throated easy sound that almost shocked him, coming as it did from the stiff and humourless person he had known to date. ‘I think that may be asking too much,’ she replied. ‘You stole his precious daughter – it is no easy thing for an adar to accept.  The best you can hope for is that you and he – and Thranduil – are driven into so far into a corner by your exclusion from the details of childbirth, that you are forced to come together to make an alliance against us.  It was the birth of our first child that finally compelled my adar to make peace with Taryatur – once, that is, he had been forgiven for being the cause of my pain.’

Legolas winced at this reminder of the realities involved in the arrival of the expected elflings. ‘Come,’ he said. ‘She has been alone for long enough.  Let us seek Elerrina and continue to distract her from what is to come.’

‘More milk?’ Linevende enquired.

‘Shall we make it fish this time?’ he suggested.  ‘And spinach?’

His naneth-in-law shook her head.  ‘It is no wonder she is counting the days,’ she said.