Title: “Moriquendi”

Author: Fan81981

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the LOTR characters, which is a shame.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Obligatory Legolas romance fic. Please give it a try. I will try to keep it as far away from Mary Sue as possible. Please Review.

*~ . . . ~* denotes thought

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

The Wedding

The air was solemn but joyous at the same time, as befitted the joining of two extraordinary people – two extraordinary races. Middle Earth had not seen a wedding like this for a long time and was not likely to see one ever again.

The priest asked for a third time, “Do you, King Elessar, take this woman to be your Queen?”

Aragorn looked at the radiant woman in front of him and smiled. He did not need the three promptings from the priest; his answer would be the same till the end of eternity.

“With all my heart.”

“And do you, Lady Arwen Evenstar, take this man to be your lord and husband?”

“With no regrets.”

Arwen looked into Aragorn’s smiling eyes and once more re-affirmed her devotion to this man.

The priest nodded, the answers signalled the end of the ceremony.

“By the powers vested in me – I announce you Lord and Queen, wedded in the eyes of Man.”

The newly married couple bent their heads to receive the priest’s benediction. He spoke briefly to them about the duties to each other but it was a mere formality. Arwen and Aragorn had been married in their hearts a long time hence, and had learnt the lessons of love and devotion well.

When the priest finished, the couple walked down from the dais and crossed the temple floor to the Royal balcony. As they entered the archway, the waiting steward raised his voice to announce, “All of Gondor hails their lady, Queen Arwen.”

A great cheer erupted from the waiting crowd as Aragorn presented his Queen to his people. She gracefully waved to her new people and then quietly stood at Aragorn’s side as the people below cheered and clapped.

There was such love and joy in these people that Arwen was stunned. Despite all the hardships they had endured, and all the dark times they had seen, they could still love their King – and make room for her in their hearts. She had once again underestimated the race of Man. She shook her head, these were her people now and she was one of them. She was Queen – human, mortal, infinitely fragile but infinitely precious.

She glanced at Aragorn and realised once again, she would not have it any other way.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

The waiting nobility waited patiently inside for the King and Queen to return and dismiss them. The humans took this opportunity to study the rest of the guests in the room, and be studied in return. It was an unusual gathering, even by royal standards.

The King of Rohan, Eomer and his sister sat proudly near the front. Their carriages were erect and imposing as befitted their royal status. King Eomer had created a huge stir in the congregation when he had entered in his armour as the Third Marshall of Riddermark. For a moment the steward had not been sure whether to let this warrior into the temple, but the glare that Eomer sent his way ‘convinced’ him to let the King in.

Éowyn herself was no less daunting in her silver trimmed white dress. Her back was ramrod straight and she carried herself as if she too was in armour. She looked cool, calm and stunningly beautiful. Many heads had turned when she entered the room, so beautiful was she. However, her beauty increased ten fold when she beheld her promised husband - Faramir, Prince of Ithilien.

He had been waiting impatiently for the delegation from Rohan to arrive. Though he had schooled his features to welcome the other guests in the name of his King, his eyes constantly sought the door of the temple. Many people were piqued to discover who this normally patient and quiet man so urgently sought. They were not disappointed when they beheld Éowyn.

Faramir had eagerly stepped forward to greet King Eomer but his manner had clearly indicated that it was Éowyn he had been waiting for. From the look he had given her, it was clear that he had been waiting for her all his life. It had filled everyone’s hearts with joy to see that their young steward had finally found love. Many were already expecting another wedding to follow this one.

If the Rohan delegation was impressive, the next party should have been very much the opposite. Many humans had to be told who these merry-looking, tiny little people were – hobbits. Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took preceded the other two. Faramir placed his father’s bondsmen to his left and Éowyn greeted her old friend, Merry, joyfully. Men and women looked on with amazement at the two little creatures – heroes and warriors in their own right. Their small stature disguised their brave hearts and mighty deeds.

Many a head turned repeatedly to look at the other two hobbits – Frodo Baggins and Sam Gamgee. All knew the Ring-bearer and his faithful companion by reputation if not by face. Entire Middle Earth owed this hobbit their existence and they were grateful and a little saddened. All could see the price the little hobbit had to pay for their victory. The shadow still lingered in his eyes though his face smiled. It was clear to those who looked at him closely how much had been robbed from him by the Ring. No wonder that Sam still hovered protectively around him. Frodo grateful sat in a secluded spot of the temple, away from prying eyes and well-meaning questions.

Even the noble Ring-Bearer was forgotten when the Elves entered the room. Rightfully called the most beautiful and most noble race in Middle Earth, they filled the room with their own unique light and song. It heartened the heart and spirit to see them, reminding everyone of the beauty that still existed in the world.

As the highest-ranking elves in Middle Earth, Lady Galadriel and her husband Celeborn led the group. The Lady rendered most people in the room speechless, never had they seen such beauty in their lives. Lord Elrond and King Thranduil walked alongside each other, right behind the Lord and Lady of Lorien, trying valiantly not to smile at the humans who openly gawked at them. Arwen’s bothers, Elladan and Elrohir, had less success concealing their mirth. They smiled openly but good-naturedly; the humans intrigued them too. They figured it would be amusing, if nothing else, to observe the humans at the wedding. Such an unpredictable race was Man.

The last people to enter were the last in a whole day of surprises – a dwarf, an elf and an old man. Such odd company on the surface, but all knew the old wizard, Gandalf the White. Many stood in greeting and respect as he passed. Prince Legolas and his fair looks had broken too many female hearts already, not to be recognised immediately either. Gimli, Lord of the Glittering Caves, prayed fervently that no one recognised him. Gaping humans was all he needed on top of this formal attire. Unfortunately, luck was not with him, many people recognised him, if only because he carried his axe and wore a signet proclaiming him Elf-friend.

The wedding was delightful but over too soon in the opinion of many of the guests. Many instinctively knew that such a gathering would never been seen again in Middle Earth. For all the joy at the couple’s union, there was a touch of sadness too in the air.

King Aragorn and Queen Arwen stepped away from the balcony and invited the guests to join them at the wedding feast.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas watched bemused as Aragorn spun Arwen around the dance floor. He had never seen his friend so happy and it made his heart rejoice. If anyone deserved happiness it was this couple.

He had known Arwen for most of her long life and he knew that she had never been so happy as she was now. Her heart sang and all rejoiced to be near her. Legolas suppressed a little sigh of his own; he wondered when he was going to find someone to love as much as Aragorn loved his Queen.

“Do not worry Elf, you too will get a girl soon,” His friend Gimli interjected. “For some completely unfathomable reason they seem to like those blond locks of yours.” Gimli shook his head sadly, “No accounting for taste is there?”

Legolas grinned at his friend; Gimli could always be trusted to cheer him up, even if he really did not need it.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“So Estel, may I dance with my daughter, or do you plan to keep her by your side for the entire night?” Elrond asked smilingly as he approached the couple.

 “When have you ever needed permission, my Lord?”

“Since she became your wife.”

*~ And human. ~*

“Then, you have my consent to dance with her,” Aragorn bowed and stepped back letting go of his wife. How that word still thrilled him.

Elrond took Arwen and gracefully guided her onto the dance floor.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“You are meant to be dancing Faramir, not monopolising Éowyn in some corner,” Aragorn’s voice interrupted the deep conversation that Faramir and Éowyn were having. Both jumped back as if bitten and looked up at Aragorn.

Aragorn laughed at their guilty expressions, “My Lady, I did not think you were capable of blushing.” Éowyn only blushed harder.

“If Faramir will not dance, may I have the pleasure?” Aragorn asked.

Éowyn looked at Faramir and quickly looked at Aragorn again. Smoothing her faceg into a more dignified expression, she said, “Of course my Lord.”

Aragorn bent forward to take her hand and lead her on to the dance floor.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“Are you happy, sell nín?”    <My daughter>

“Yes Adar. More than I ever imagined,” Arwen answered sincerely.            <Father>

Elrond looked at his daughter’s happy face and knew that he had lost his child forever. She truly was mortal now and he was going to lose her to oblivion someday. Even if would not see it with his eyes, he would feel it. Even in this moment of joy, his heart with sorrow for the loss of his beautiful daughter.

“I am happy Ada. I would not have changed my choice,” Arwen spoke quietly understanding her father’s sorrow.

“He will make me happy.”

“I know, meleth.” Elrond answered as quietly. If nothing else, he was sure of that fact. <Love>

“I will miss you. You have brought much joy to my life.”

“As will I.”

“I will remember you, Evenstar.”

“Then I will live forever.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“You love him, do you not?” Aragorn asked Éowyn.

“Yes,” Éowyn answered simply, knowing who it was Aragorn spoke of. She did feel like saying anymore; though Aragorn had no claim on her heart, she was not comfortable talking to him about Faramir

“You are happy?” Aragorn persisted.

“Yes, very.” Éowyn fell silent, not knowing what to say. Looking at Aragorn’s face, she saw the concern and friendship and she smiled. “He completes me. When I am with him, I yearn for nothing else,” she stated quietly.

“Not even to be a shield maiden?” Aragorn wondered.

 “With him, I am Éowyn – no more, no less.”

“Then you are happy.” Aragorn was satisfied.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

While most of the guests watched the elves and the dancing couples, Thranduil watched the humans carefully. Mirkwood was an insular kingdom and he did not have much contact with humans, who gave the Woods a wide berth on the best of days.

He marvelled at their resilience and spirit, it was no wonder that humans were counted as dangerous foes. Even their wonder in life and naivety was charming. He could understand why Lord Elrond took such great interest in the race. It went beyond his half-elven heritage – it was love for Man and his welfare. Thranduil would never be a partisan like Elrond was but neither did he hold humans in contempt. There was much to admire in this race and learn if one was not too proud to admit it.

Thranduil watched the guests laugh and make merry, they were happy and that attracted the King. He thought back to his own kingdom, back to his own beloved woods. He could not remember when he had heard such joy from his people – such an uninhibited love of life. Certainly not after his beloved Eruante had sailed for the Grey Havens. She had taken the light from his life and from the lives of his people. They needed to be reminded that life, despite all the adversity, continued and was meant be appreciated.

Maybe a celebration – he looked towards where his son was sitting. Maybe a celebration was what was required.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“Hmm, father is looking at me,” Legolas said to Gimli.

“So?”

“I do not like the way he is looking at me. It makes me feel like a sack of meal about to be bartered.”

“You exaggerate, Elf. Eat and forget your father.”

“No friend Gimli, he is plotting something and I am going to pay for it.” Legolas suddenly found that he had lost his appetite. He wondered why Thranduil was looking at him so speculatively.

“By the Valar, I hope he not planning something. I always seem to suffer because of it.”

“Such as?” Gimli asked curiously.

“Last time, he sent me to Imladris. And we all know how that turned out.”

“He made you a hero, beloved of many people. Gave you a chance to make something out of your life, make a difference in Middle Earth. Sounds terrible to me,” Gimli retorted.

“Yes, well, in hindsight I suppose it all worked out,” Legolas said a little sheepishly.

 “Do not worry, if he is planning something I am sure ‘it will all work out’. Now eat.” Gimli turned resolutely back to his ale.

Legolas shook his head. Thranduil was planning something – and Legolas just knew he was not going to like it.

 x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Chapter 2 – Machinations

The feast continued until the small hours of the morning and everyone left pleasantly exhausted. Thranduil insisted that Legolas accompany him to their rooms. Though Legolas would have preferred to stay and talk to his friends, who seemed determined to greet the rising sun, there was no way he could refuse his father.

On their way back Thranduil commented, “Gondor rejoices to see its new Queen.”

Legolas blinked, his father was making small talk? It was only when Legolas saw that his father was pointedly looking at him, did he realise that some answer was expected.

“Yes, the people seem happy.” Legolas carefully replied. *~ What does he expect me to say? ~*

“As they should be, Arwen will make a good Queen.” Thranduil continued with his seemingly aimless observations.

*~ What are you thinking father? ~*

It took another keen look form Thranduil for Legolas to add, “A very good Queen. She already cares deeply for her new people.”

“A Queen is necessary for the well-being of the people.” Thranduil casually remarked.

Before Legolas could formulate a response, Thranduil continued, “The celebration helped lift everyone’s spirits. It gladdened the heart to see such joy after such darkness.”

*~ Where are you leading with this father? Why do you hesitate to say what you think?~*

There was a moment’s pause in which Legolas remained resolutely silent.

“Mirkwood could use such joy.”

Legolas, for the smallest of seconds, stopped walking and glanced at his father. Thranduil was looking intently at Legolas, obviously gauging his reaction. Legolas quickly schooled his features into impassivity.

“Mirkwood could use any joy at this moment.” Thranduil said.

This time Legolas stopped walking and turned to face his father. He could feel the pain emanating from the older Elf. This celebration could not have been easy for him; any joy was tinged with pain for him since Queen Eruante had left Middle Earth.

“Ada, Mirkwood will be happy once more.”            <Father>

Thranduil smiled, he knew his son shared the same pain he did. Losing ones mother was only marginally less painful than losing ones wife. But it cheered his heart to know that Legolas shared his love as well – it was not difficult to hear the determination that last statement carried. Mirkwood’s Prince had given his vow.

“We will talk in the morning, ion nín.” Thranduil entered his chambers leaving Legolas at the door.            <My son>

It was not a request.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas bowed as Thranduil closed the door. He remained standing outside, staring at the door, hoping that it would help him make sense of the conversation he had just had.

Thranduil never said anything without meaning, without purpose, especially to his son. Legolas walked towards his room, he was in no mood to go back to the revelry. He needed to sift through what Thranduil had said.

*~Gondor rejoices to see its new Queen. ~*

*~ As it should. Father was right in saying that Arwen will be a good Queen; she will be good for Gondor, and for Aragorn. ~*

Legolas smiled at the thought of his friends. He entered his room and dismissed the waiting servants. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts and did not need hovering servants around.

*~ A Queen is necessary for the well being of the people. ~*  

Legolas knew the validity of this statement from personal experience. When his mother had left, Mirkwood had lost something precious. Though no one spoke about it to the young elf, he had instinctively known that all elves had mourned with his father. He could still remember that sweet smell of his mother’s arms when she held him. If Legolas closed his eyes, he could still trace every curve of her face with his mind.

Legolas sighed; it would not do to think of Eruante. He needed his mind to be unclouded if he was going to unravel Thranduil’s hidden meanings. Legolas reached out for his nightclothes, when his father’s next words came crashing down on him.

*~ The celebration helped lift everyone’s spirits  . . . Mirkwood could use such joy. ~*

This time Legolas did stumble. Thranduil was hinting at a wedding, he wanted to provide Mirkwood with a Queen, or more precisely - a Princess.

Legolas sank down onto his bed. It never crossed his mind that Thranduil was hinting at another marriage for himself. Though extremely rare, it was possible to sunder marriage vows. It was not done lightly and only if great need demanded it.

The only situation that Legolas could think of was when Celebrian had been forced to leave Middle Earth after her rescue from the orcs. Lord Elrond could have put her aside, since she could not be a wife to him anymore. However, he chose to wait until they were re-united.

By the same precedent, Thranduil could have put Eruante aside, but Legolas knew that Thranduil had never contemplated such an action, even for the Realm. Eruante was the one of the few things Thranduil loved more than his Kingdom.

This could only mean that Thranduil was planning his son’s wedding. A Princess would be a close substitute for a Queen. Legolas shook his head, he did not know whether to praise his father’s audacity or hold his head and weep. In the end, he did neither. He lay down and decided to get some sleep. One approached the enemy well rested and alert. The irony did not escape Legolas – his father was the enemy in this case. A loving enemy at that. Legolas could only hope that he had managed to completely misunderstand what his father was suggesting.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas arrived promptly outside his father’s room just as Anor[1] was rising. Thranduil’s ‘morning’ started when the sky lightened and the first rays hit Middle Earth.

Sure enough, Thranduil was ready and waiting for Legolas to appear. He motioned for Legolas to head towards the gardens. Both father and son shared a common love of Nature and Gondor’s gardens had some beautiful trees.

Neither spoke as they reached the gardens, content for the moment, to let the morning wash away any lingering weariness in them. Legolas watched as Thranduil turned his face slightly to let the morning light play over his face. His heart twisted, it was rare that he saw his father this content. Thranduil looked at Legolas and both smiled at each other. Both father and son were at ease and pleased to be with each other.

Unfortunately, the mood did not last.

“I want you to get married.” Thranduil shattered the fragile mood with his abrupt statement.

Legolas inwardly smiled; at least his father was not going to waste time with pleasantries. He took a deep breath and engaged his father.

“Why?”

“Were you not listening to what I was saying yesterday?” Thranduil countered.

“I was under the impression that we were having a pleasant conversation, nothing more.”

“Pleasant conversations may be instructive as well.”

Legolas wondered what to say now. Refusing outright would only make his father angry. “Adar, a decision like this should not be rushed into.”

“I am not rushing into anything, I have been thinking about this a for long time.”

This surprised Legolas, but in hindsight, it should not have. Thranduil never did anything impulsively. On the other hand, it angered him that Thranduil had been thinking about his marriage without consulting him.

“What made you decide to spring this on me now?”

“Considering all the has happened, Mirkwood needs a Princess now more than ever.” Thranduil’s voice was calm and that irked Legolas more than he cared to admit.

“And what of what I need?” Legolas struggled to keep his temper in check. Losing his concentration now would only give his father the upper hand.

“What of your needs? You are an adult now, I would have thought a wife would have been exactly what you require.”

Legolas clenched his teeth; Thranduil was deliberately misunderstanding what he was trying to say. “Adar, I believe I am not ready for marriage at this point in time.”  <Father – formal tone>

“Then you will make yourself ‘ready’.”

“Adar, I cannot marry someone I do not love.” Legolas bit out.

“I did not love your mother when I married her, but as time passed learned to do so deeply. So shall you.”

“Not everyone is as lucky as you were with Naneth. I would like to be in love with my wife, before I get married.”            <Mother>

“Not all of us have that luxury, ion nín. Mirkwood needs a Princess and it is your duty to provide one.”            <My Son>

“I will not sacrifice my life for the sake of duty.” Legolas head pounded and he struggled to keep his voice level.

“You are over 3000 years old, you cannot behave like a child any longer. You are a Prince and your life is about duty. Duty to your people. You will get married.” Thranduil was losing his temper as well, he was not used to people arguing with him, least of all his son.

“You would sacrifice your son to allow your people to indulge in a carnival?” Legolas heatedly demanded.

“Please acquit me of such stupidity. Your marriage is not an excuse but a necessity.”

“A necessity for whom?”

“For Mirkwood. You are my only child and with you, our line ends. If nothing else, you need to produce an heir, Legolas. It is time.”

“Is it my fault that you only decided to have one child?”

“You know that my decision had little to do with it. Eruante had difficult conceiving as it is, but if she had remained she would have tried none the less.”

Legolas swallowed, that accusation was uncalled for; he knew Thranduil would never shirked his duty. “Ada, I am sorry for that remark. But there is still time for me to find a wife myself.”

“You are ignorant ion nín, there is no time. You will have to trust me when I say that you must get married now.”            <My Son>

“How can I trust you when you do not accord me the same right?”

“Legolas, I do not wish to argue with you. I have made my decision.”

“Have you decided who I am going to marry?”

“Yes, some time ago.”

“Adar! I will not allow this to happen.” Legolas declared, not believing that Thranduil could be so high handed.

Thranduil finally lost his temper as well. “Remember who you address, Prince. I am your King and I am giving you a royal command. You are to get married soon after we return to Mirkwood. I will brook no disobedience in this matter.”

Legolas felt his heart grow cold, this was not his father who he addressed, this was the King of Mirkwood. This was the elf he owed allegiance to, the elf he had vowed to serve and obey.

But he could not cave in so easily, “And if I refuse?”

“I will make sure that you are unable to set foot in Mirkwood again. I have no use for traitors.”

Legolas reeled back; Thranduil was serious – deadly serious. This was no idle threat.

“As my King commands.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Chapter 3 – Aftermath

A/N: Sindarin translations are in <  . . . >

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Thranduil left a stunned Legolas in the garden; his son refused to understand and he did not have the time or patience to sit and coax him.

Legolas sank onto the nearest bench as soon as his father had left and tried to process what had just happened. Try as he might, his thoughts could not get past a single thought – he was going to get married to a complete stranger.

Legolas buried his head in his hands; Elven composure completely deserted him. An image of Arwen smiling at Aragorn flashed in his mind and his heart twisted with bitter envy. Now he would never know what it felt like to have a lover smile at him.

He knew his father, if Thranduil said the marriage was necessary it probably was. That in itself frightened Legolas, more than he cared to admit. What had happened in this last year or so that had made his father so anxious? Why this urgency?

*~ Who is the woman he is planning to tie me to? ~*

Legolas suddenly became aware of another’s presence in the garden. Not wanting to be disturbed, he sharply said, “Kela!”            <Leave! >

“Hmmm, so now a prince presumes to order me to go away. Times must have changed since I last blinked.”

Legolas almost fell off the bench when he heard the Lady of Lorien’s voice. “My lady, I did not know it was you.” Legolas’ fair cheeks burned crimson.

“Obviously.” Galadriel’s voice was amused and her mouth smiled. Legolas calmed down when he saw that the Lady was not offended. “Though I am obliged to point out, most of the human servants would not be able to understand Sindarin anyway.” Galadriel’s voice almost shook with the effort not to laugh.

Legolas smiled at her, “Once again you are absolutely correct, my Lady. I will be more careful next time.”

She chuckled lightly, causing Legolas to smile even wider. “May I ask what bothers the Prince of Mirkwood so much that he becomes so careless?”

“The King.”

“Amin elea.”                < I see >

Galadriel did not want to pry but Legolas seemed so downcast that she could not leave him. “Do you wish to speak of it?” She asked gently.

Legolas looked at her, and for a moment, allowed himself to wonder. Would his mother have been so gentle and firm at the same time? Would she have looked at him with the tenderness Lady Galadriel was showing?

*~ With this and more, little one. Now tell me, what bothers you so? ~* Galadriel’s thoughts were calming and sweet to Legolas.

“My father wishes me to get married.”

Galadriel smiled, “That should be the cause of much rejoicing, not this despair.”

“Rejoice at the thought of marrying an elleth I do not know?” Legolas could not keep the bitterness that out of his voice.            <She-Elf>

“Have you asked your father who your intended is?”

Legolas shook his head.

“Than how do you know she is a stranger?” Galadriel patiently asked.

“He would have told me if I knew. I would have been less . . .” Legolas trailed off, not wanting the Lady to know of his fight with Thranduil.

“Less vehement? Amin n'sinta My guess is that you were too angry to let him explain anything.” Galadriel’s voice was knowing; Legolas realised she had probably heard the angry words between Thranduil and him.      <I do not know>.

“I . . . he . . .” Legolas fell silent. Thranduil’s threat still rung in his ears and he was not ready to repeat it, even to himself.

“Thranduil loves you, more than you can imagine. If he asks you to get married than it is for the best.”

“How can it be?” Legolas forlornly asked, his eyes seeking guidance.

“That you must ask him. But remember this, he would not hurt you. If for no other reason than, you are all he has left of Eruante.”

Galadriel got up to leave; Legolas stood and offered to escort her back.

“No my child, you need to think about what has been said.” Galadriel smiled at the young prince.

“Diola lle.”            <Thank you>

“Ta nae amin saesa.”             <It was my pleasure>

With that, Galadriel left the thoroughly confused prince alone.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas wandered about in the garden for another hour; the words of the two conversations rolling around in his head.

*~ I want you to get married ~*

*~  . . . should be the cause of much rejoicing . . . ~*

*~ I am not ready ~*

*~ If he asks you to get married than it is for the best. ~*

*~ I cannot marry someone I do not love ~*

*~ He would not hurt you ~*

*~ I will not allow this to happen ~*

*~You are to get married soon after we return to Mirkwood. I will brook no disobedience in this matter ~*

Legolas halted; this pacing was getting him no answers. He needed to clear his head and start all over again.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Instinctively, Legolas found himself at the archery grounds. He picked up a long bow and caressed the wood in his hands. He drew back the sting, pleased to see that it was taunt and well kept. He released it and his blood thrilled at the sound it made. He knew that sound like his own breathing, it was familiar and at this point very comforting.

He picked up a quiver of practise arrows lying next to the bow. If he could not think his way through this mess, maybe he could block it out of his mind.

Legolas drew back the arrow.

*~ So father wants me to get married. ~*

Gracefully, he let the arrow fly.

*~ I know father loves me. ~*

The arrow landed in the centre of the target with a loud thump.

*~ Lady Galadriel is right; he would never deliberately hurt me. But unintentionally . . . ? ~*

Legolas picked up another arrow,

*~ He does not understand. ~*

 The arrow split the first – another bulls-eye.

*~ He does not know how desperately I yearn to love, be loved – the way Aragorn loves Arwen. He does not know how I ache to look at someone the way Faramir looks at Éowyn. ~*

Four more arrows flew to join the first two, each one splitting the one before. Legolas did not even notice.

*~ He does not understand! ~*

“A little more circumspection, Legolas. Otherwise, I will be out of arrows very soon.” Aragorn’s voice cheerfully scolded.

Legolas blinked, and only then noticed that he had already gone through a whole quiver of arrows. He grinned apologetically at Aragorn and shrugged.

“So what bothers you, my friend?”

“Am I that transparent?”

“Only to those who love you.”

Legolas smiled and shook his head. He really did not want to talk about it – again.

“Do you know, I heard the most unusual thing today?” Aragorn casually mentioned, picking up another bow.

Legolas did not say anything, though he quirked his eyebrow in curiosity.

“I heard two elves screaming at each other – a most extraordinary state for any of the Firstborn, but especially between father and son.”

Legolas glared at Aragorn, “So you heard?”

“I could not help it. You and the King were  . . . loud.” Aragorn smiled, “Needless to say, Lady Galadriel and I were most surprised.”

“Then please do not say it.”

Aragorn laughed at the discomforted elf. “Be of good cheer Legolas, it will not be so unpleasant. I am sure Thranduil will choose well for you.”

“At this moment, that is of little comfort to me.”

“Then would be a comfort?”

“Having someone understand how I feel?” Legolas took aim again.

“I understand.”

“How can you? You have Arwen.” Legolas shook his head, his beautiful voice full of loneliness.

“And one of these days I will lose her, knowing that because of me she will die.” Aragorn’s voice was as heart rendering as he took aim at another target. “And as your father, pointed out, none too gently, you have a duty to perform, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood.” Aragorn’s arrow flew straight and true.

“I am beginning to hate that word.” Legolas’ arrow casually split Aragorn’s, which was only slightly off-centre.

“Do not hate what you cannot change Legolas, it is a waste of energy. And unworthy of one such as you.” Aragorn turned to face the blond elf.

“Your people need you; they have suffered much. How can they move on with their lives without an example? And what better example than the marriage of their beloved prince.”

“I hurt Aragorn.” Legolas looked at his friend, allowing him to see the loneliness that lurked behind that calm exterior. Aragorn swallowed and stepped forward to clasp his friend’s shoulder.

Legolas’ blue eyes bored into the human’s brown ones. “I do not know whether I can live without love Aragorn, as Arwen could not.”

“You have all of eternity to learn to love you wife.” Aragorn offered – a weak defence but a true one nonetheless.

“All of eternity . . . You would be surprised at how short a time that can be Aragorn. Now let us talk of something else.” Legolas determinedly turned away.

“What would you have me talk about?”

“We could start with the reason why was King Elessar was up so early, walking in the gardens, without his wife?”

Aragorn grinned; Legolas would survive.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Chapter 4 - The Journey Home

The week after the wedding passed by too quickly and it was time for the guests to return home. Aragorn and Arwen watched with heavy hearts as Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond left for their respective homes. Arwen knew that this would probably be the last time she would see her father. As much as she loved Aragorn, and stood by her decision, she could not help the regret the fact that her children would never know their grandfather.

Lord Elrond looked at his daughter and recognised the sorrow in her face. Bending down he kissed her forehead and said, “No regrets, Melamin.” <My love>

Arwen smiled and nodded her head. She would not cry in front of her father. “Amin mela lle.”             <I love you>

“As do I, sell nín. You have brought me such happiness. Always remember that.”    <My Daughter>

“I will Ada -  I just wish . . .”

Elrond put his finger on Arwen’s mouth preventing her from saying anything.

“I know, little one.”

He kissed Arwen on the cheek once again and turned to look at Aragorn.

“Take care of her, Estel.”

“Always, my Lord.”

“Namaarie, son of my heart.”            <Farewell>

“Goodbye . . . father.”

With that Elrond mounted his horse; his face was sombre.

The Elves looked at the King and Queen of Gondor and waved. Before they left, Galadriel looked at her granddaughter and said,

“Tenna’ ento lye omenta.”             <Until next we meet>

Arwen curtsied, glad that Galadriel had not said goodbye.

As the mounts faded from sight, Arwen softly spoke, “Cormamin niuve tenna’ ta elea lle au”             < My heart shall weep until it sees thee again>

Aragorn gently squeezed her hand and led her inside.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas and his father had to leave soon after Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel. Though Legolas would have preferred to stay in Gondor for longer, Thranduil seemed anxious to return. One look at his face convinced Legolas not to argue, the king was in residence and expected the prince to obey.

For the second time in two days, Aragorn had to bid farewell to one of his loved ones. He embraced Legolas tightly, almost causing the elf to choke.

“Promise me that I will see you again.”

“Many times my friend, I am not planning to leave Middle Earth any time soon. At least, not till you are dead and long forgotten.”

“I will hold you to that Master Elf.”

“Naturally,” Legolas smiled, he would miss this human more than he had imagined would be possible.

King Thranduil sat impassively on his horse, not wanting to spoil this moment for his son but still ready to depart.

Aragorn glanced at the Elven King, “I think you should be on your way. Your father seems to be getting slightly impatient.”

“How can you tell?” Legolas asked facetiously. The King’s features were smooth and gave away nothing.

Aragorn grinned, “I grew up among Elves, remember?”

“Ah yes, I completely forgot that.”

Aragorn took a playful swat at Legolas head, which the Elven prince easily avoided.

“I better leave, before my guard decide to forget diplomatic relations and riddle you with arrows for taking liberties with their Prince.”

Aragorn glanced at the Home Guard, which accompanied the King and his Heir. Legolas was right; they watched him very carefully and their hands remained very close to their bows. It was their duty to protect the royal family to the last man, and they took their duty very seriously.

“They do not trust me, do they?”

Legolas sighed, “For the longest time, the Elves of Mirkwood have trusted no one. We have suffered other elves but humans have long been regarded with suspicion.”

“One hopes that will change now,” Aragorn said gravely.

 “It has for this elf, it will for the rest as well,” Legolas said with complete conviction. “It is now time to leave.”

“I will miss you my friend,” Aragorn repeated quietly.

“You have other friends, the Hobbits, Master Gimli – though that might not be a comfort. And of course you have Arwen.”

“But they are not you.”

“Thank the Valar for that.” Legolas smirked. “Tell Master Gimli that I will expect him in Mirkwood soon – if only to formalise the treaty between his people and mine.”

Aragorn nodded, “Namaarie, Mellonamin” <Farewell, my friend>

“Namaarie, nín hîr.” Legolas clasped Aragorn’s hand and walked away. When he lightly vaulted onto his horse, the Captain of the Home Guard gave the signal for the company to move out.             <Farewell, my Lord>

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas surreptitiously watched his father from beneath his lashes. Thranduil seemed more pre-occupied than usual. They had not left Gondor far behind when a frown replaced the emotionless mask.

Legolas hesitated asking his father about what troubled him; it was probably Legolas’ steadfast refusal to agree to the marriage. Legolas was under no misconceptions; the marriage would go ahead whether he liked it or not. Thranduil was capable enough of choking the words out of his son’s unwilling throat. Mirkwood’s Prince would obey, but Legolas would not give into his father’s unreasonable demand.

Legolas knew intellectually that his father probably had good reasons for his insistence but his heart persisted in revolting. Despite Galadriel and Aragorn’s words of caution, he could not reconcile himself to the idea of wedding a stranger. He had decided that he would ignore it as long as he could. Unfortunately, with their imminent return to Mirkwood, it seemed as if he did not have much time left.

For now, Thranduil seemed content to let Legolas ignore the problem. He would patiently bide his time – Legolas would have to obey in the end. He could do it graciously or not. In the end, it would be as Thranduil wished.

The Sun set on the first day of travelling. At the pace they were setting, they should approach the southern tip of the Rhovanion in another two maybe three days time. From there, if they were fortunate it would take them another two days to reach Mirkwood.

If they were fortunate - the Great Wood was still a dangerous place, dark things lurked in its shadows even though Sauron had fallen. It would take time for the wood to recover. Legolas still remembered, when Mirkwood was still Greenwood, his father had ruled over the entire wood, instead of only the northern portion of it. He remembered how once the entire wood had rung with the laughter of the Elves. How the trees had reverberated with Elven song and dance.

Those days had long since faded to a memory, but Legolas had promised himself that one day the Woods would be theirs again. It would once again belong to the Elves and not to the Evil that infested it now. He would see the day when his people could walk through the wood without fear for their lives, when the Elves could finish their fight against the Dark and finally rest.

Thranduil looked at his son and recognised that steely look in those blue eyes. The resolve he saw in them reminded him of himself. Legolas truly was his son, committed to his people, his duty – but too stubborn to embrace it.

“Come ion nín. Let us get some rest. We will need it.”             <My son>.

Legolas nodded, the closer they got to Mirkwood the more dangerous it became. The Elves kept the area safe generally, but accidents were known to happen.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“Heru en amin.” <My Lord – non familiar>

Legolas turned to look at the Captain of the Guard, Arandur, who signalled that the King wanted to speak to him.

Legolas rode to where Thranduil waited for him.

“Report.”

“Nothing seems to be amiss, but I cannot help but feel that something stirs in the woods.”

“Something always stirs in the woods, my Prince.” Arandur came up behind Legolas. Legolas nodded but his face remained worried.

Thranduil had insisted on setting a quick pace, much to Legolas’ surprise, thus they had reached the border of the Great Wood in two days. He had been hoping to make a detour to Rohan but Thranduil had been peculiarly insistent in returning. It was the first of many indications that something was wrong.

Now, they were at the edge of the Wood and Thranduil wanted to cut across, saving them another day’s travel. Thranduil’s impatience was infecting Legolas as well, though he did not understand it. It only served to make him anxious. The only one that did not seem to be affected was Arandur. But then, the Captain was always calm - even by Elven standards. He seemed to be carved out of stone, or so it seemed to the young Prince.

“I do not think it is a good idea to enter the wood. We should skirt around and attempt entry at another point.”

“The Prince has a point, your Majesty.”

“We will lose another day if we take the longer route.” Thranduil’s voice was flat.

Arandur nodded, “It cannot be helped.”

“We will cut across the woods.”

“But Ada . . .” Legolas fell silent at Thranduil’s sharp look.

Arandur nodded and signalled to the Home Guard, who quickly formed a protective ring around the two royal Elves.

“Move out.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas could not take it anymore, “Ada, why are you in such a hurry to return home.”

“So you are talking to me again, ion nín?” Thranduil quirked his eyebrow, smiling fondly at his son. <My Son>

“ADA!” Legolas almost exploded.

Thranduil took pity on Legolas and decided to answer. “There have been rumours of increased orc activity within the wood. The orcs seem to be returning in ever increasing numbers. We beat them back when Dol Guldor fell but it seems to have been only temporary. They are returning to attack the Woods once again but we have yet to discern a pattern to it. It could only be remnants making a last attempt or a new offensive. I cannot be sure but it seems as if the fall of the Dark Lord has removed any restraint on these foul creatures. They are merciless in their attacks.”

“They are frightened and abandoned. All they know looting and pillaging. It is in their nature,” Arandur quietly added, not removing his eyes from the forest even while he spoke.

“Be that as it may, these reports cannot bode well for the Elves,” Thranduil wryly commented.

“Why did you not tell me before?” Legolas demanded.

“They were only rumours and then you have not been around for me to tell you anything.”

Legolas coloured, he could not avoid the merit it that remark. He remained silent till  . . . “You said that they ‘were’ rumours. Has something changed to make you believe them?”

“Nothing yet, but I do not want to take the chance. We must reach Mirkwood as soon as possible.”

“Adar, the Guard will be able to handle the situation, even in your absence. You need not return with such recklessness.”            <Father – formally>

“No, I will not abandon my people.” Thranduil set his jaw.

“You will do your people no good if you get yourself killed.” Legolas heatedly pointed out. Father and son glared at each other.

“With due respect, now that we are in the Woods, leaving will be as risky as staying. We are committed and could use all our attention in keeping watch.” Arandur calmly pointed out.

It was as close to a rebuke as the Captain would ever come to.

 x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Most of the day was blessedly uneventful; the company encountered no trouble. Nevertheless, Legolas travelled with his bow strung. It was not the most comfortable way to travel, but he was not about to take any chances with his King.

And his stubborn, temperamental father.

Legolas looked at Thranduil – if anything were to happen to him. Legolas has lost one parent already. He would not lose another.

“Watch the trees my Lord and nothing will happen to him.” Arandur said. Legolas nodded and closely scanned the surrounding area.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas blinked, he thought he saw movement in the shadow but there seemed to be nothing there. Legolas was tempted to put it down to an overactive imagination – but . . . there it was again.

This time Legolas was certain he had seen movement.

He brought his bow up, “Whoever you are, come out of the shadows or I will shoot.”

Thranduil looked at where Legolas was aiming. For a moment, nobody moved. Then, just when Legolas was about to fire, a figure materialised from the shadows.

It was a person wrapped in a black cloak. Legolas could not see the figure’s face because a black hood obscured it. It was no wonder that Legolas missed the person the first time, the cloak blended into the shadows very effectively.

“Who are you?” Legolas’ voice was low and menacing.

Thranduil came forward and gently lowered the bow. Legolas looked at his father, but Thranduil shook his head.

“Arandur.”

The captain nodded and slipped down from his horse to approach the figure. There was no cautiousness in the Captain’s stance, so Legolas had to conclude that the figure was not a threat.

The figure bent forward to whisper something in Arandur’s ear and he nodded. As he walked back to his horse, the figure stepped back into the shadows.

Legolas tried to raise his bow again but once again, Thranduil stopped him. Frustrated, Legolas turned to his father.

“Not now, Legolas.”

Legolas sighed and turned – only to discover that the figure had completely disappeared. Not even Legolas’ Elven eyes track the figure. He was gone.

Thranduil looked at Arandur questioningly.

“It seems that the rumours have been confirmed.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Chapter 5 –Refugees

“It seems that the rumours have been confirmed,” Arandur said severely.

“What news?”

“A settlement, about ten, fifteen minutes ride from here, has been attacked.”

“Orcs?”

“Yes. They were repulsed by. . . help.”

Legolas could have sworn that Arandur had glanced in his direction and changed his sentence mid-way.

“Is trouble anticipated?” Thranduil questioned.

The Captain shook his head, “Unlikely, nevertheless we should make haste and return to Mirkwood.”

“No, I wish to see the settlement.”

“My King, it could be dangerous,” Arandur frowned.

“All the more reason that we are at the settlement. Or do you doubt the Guard’s ability to protect me?”

“Of course not, your Majesty.” Arandur seemed almost offended at the question.

“Maybe you doubt the validity of the news then?” Thranduil continued casually – too causally.

“Never.” This time Arandur’s voice was flat, and Legolas detected anger in it. He could not help but wonder why Arandur put such faith in the dark figure’s news. It had to be one of the Home Guard, probably Arandur’s chosen elite. If so, Thranduil had doubted his Captain’s ability. No wonder Arandur was angry – he was a proud elf.

“In that case, there is no reason why I should not go to the settlement. There might be people there in need.”

“As my King wishes,” Arandur bowed.

Legolas smiled, Thranduil had manoeuvred the Captain into agreeing with the plan, despite his misgivings. It had become a matter of personal honour that the King reach the settlement quickly and safely. Legolas felt his father’s impatience in his heart as well. He too needed to make sure that the settlement was secure and the people safe. Until he had seen it with his eyes, he would not be satisfied.

The Prince had to make sure his people were well. Duty demanded it.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

The settlement was small by Mirkwood’s standards, a few dozen shelters were scattered amongst the trees. It was obviously a poor, farming community – an easy target for marauding orcs.

Legolas bit back a cry of pain when he saw the smoking houses. Forlorn and exhausted Elves watched the party with wary eyes. Their fair faces were smudged with dirt and tears. It was shattering to see these proud people look so defeated. Legolas could only wonder how they had survived the attack; the surrounding destruction gave evidence that the fighting had been severe.

Thranduil slid off his horse and approached the circle of elves that had formed had the settlement’s entrance. A tired looking elf, the leader of the community stepped forward to greet their King.

“Your Majesty. We were not expecting . . .” He swallowed, obviously at a loss on how to continue.

Thranduil gently clasped the Elf’s shoulder, “What can we do to help?”

“Nothing, your majesty. The orcs have left. We are safe.”

“For now. They will probably come back.”

The Elf nodded, resigned to his fate.

“You and your people should leave this area.”

“And go where? This is our home, we cannot leave it, even if we were willing.” The elf shook his head, resigned to his fate.

“Is this how you all feel?” Thranduil asked the rest of the gathered Elves.

Everyone, to the last child nodded. Someone said, “This is our home. If we have to, we will fight for it, till the last breath has left our bodies. We will not leave.”

“There will be no need for such a sacrifice. We shall send a contingent of guards to reinforce you.”

The Elves cheered at this news, visibly brightening. “We . . . we cannot express  . . . you have our gratitude King Thranduil.” The Elves sank on one knee in appreciation of the King’s commitment.

Thranduil smiled and waved them up. “Now, I would like to inspect the rest of the settlement.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

As Legolas watched his father walk among the farmers, it hit him how much they depended on their King. Thranduil managed to calm their fears and provide them with a measure of security even in this uncertain climate. It was a peculiar feeling for Legolas to realise that how much the Wood-Elves loved Thranduil. He was their King, their champion. Legolas was seeing the pledge Thranduil had made to his people and its importance.

He had never been more proud of his father when he made a pretty maid smile.

He had never loved his father more, when he hid his own pain behind a confident smile in order to comfort others.

It was a humbling experience for Legolas and a daunting one. Only now was he beginning to comprehend how many depended on his father – and him – for reassurance and refuge.

“He is a good King, is he not?” Arandur’s voice broke into Legolas’ reverie.

“Yes. I never realised how good.”

“Makes you see him in a new light?”

Legolas nodded, his eyes still following his father.

“You will be a good King too.” Arandur voice was confident.

“Will I?” Legolas inwardly winced; he did not mean the question to be so unsure.

“Yes. You have Thranduil’s devotion to his cause, to his people. You will do whatever it takes for them. You know it, as do they. They can trust you. You will make a good King.”

“Hopefully I will not have to find out if your words are true.” Legolas tried to lighten the mood – this conversation was getting too ominous for his liking.

“In these times, one should not hold on to hope.”

Legolas blinked as Arandur walked away.

He looked back at Thranduil.

*~ You will make a good King. ~*

*~ May I never have to prove that statement correct. ~*

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas felt something attach himself to his leg. He looked down to see a little boy clinging desperately to his leg.

“Well, hello there, little Elfling. And who might you be?” Legolas smiled down at the obviously terrified boy.

“You won’t leave me too, will you?” The boy whispered, his tiny little voice trembling.

Legolas bent down to pick the child up, cradling the shivering boy in his arms. “What is your name, little one?”

“Arorod – it means Noble Mountain.” The boy snuggled into Legolas’ arms.

“Noble Mountain? Is that not a very big name for a tiny little mite like you.”

“No – I am going to grow up to become as tall as a mountain. Just you see.”

Legolas chuckled, “Is that so? How long will that take?”

“Not long – unless . . .”

“Unless what?”

“Unless the bad monsters come and get me. Like they got my mommy.” The boy looked solemnly at Legolas, his little eyes filling with tears.

‘No little one, they will not come and get you.” Legolas hugged the child even more tightly.

“You promise?” The boy looked straight into Legolas’ eyes.

“Yes.”

“Good, my mommy always said that princes never broke their promises. You won’t will you?”

“Never, my little mountain.”

The boy nodded, and laid his head on Legolas’ chest. “You will stay with me then?” He yawned, rubbing his eyes.

Legolas stroked the little head, until the boy fell asleep in his arms. “I cannot, little one. I wish I could. But this I promise to you - the orcs will not hurt you or any of my people as long as I am prince.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“It seems as if you have found an admirer, ion nín.” Thranduil smiled at the sight of his son holding the little elfing in his arms.

“He was tired, and he fell asleep in my arms.” Legolas gently wiped away the tear tracks from the child’s face. “We have to help them father.”

“We will, my son. We will. You have my word on it.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Leaving was more difficult than Legolas anticipated. Arorod had started weeping when he found out that Legolas was leaving.

“You promised you wouldn’t let them get me. You promised.”

Legolas bent down to look at Arorod, “Yes I promised. I did not lie to you. But I have to go away now to stop the monsters. If I do not, they will return.”

“Will you come back?”

Legolas nodded and held out his arms. Arorod literally fell into them, holding onto Legolas’ neck as if his life depended on it.

“Mommy always said that princes never lied. You will come back. You promised. You will stop the creatures.” Arorod kept repeating these words as if saying them often enough would make them true.

Legolas kindly detangled the tiny arms from his neck and handed the child back to his father. As he got on his horse he could still hear little Arorod’s words whisper in his ears *~ You promised. ~*

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

The journey back to Mirkwood was silent, each person saddened by the scene they had just witnessed. Legolas especially, was troubled by what he had seen. “Father, may we talk?”

Thranduil looked at his son’s distressed face and nodded. “It was overwhelming, was it not, my son?”

 “Those people . . . the trust they put in you – in us. It is frightening. How . . . how can we . . .” Legolas fell silent, he did not know what he wanted to say – what he wanted explained.

Thranduil did not say anything, he understood Legolas’ fear – he fought it every waking moment. “How can we justify their faith in us?”

Legolas nodded.

“We cannot. As Prince you will find that often you will disappoint some and let others down so that the greater good can prevail.”

“Then why this trust in the first place?”

“Because we try – because we live for them, because we die for them.” Thranduil’s voice was weary.

Legolas looked at his father, he had never seen Thranduil like this.

“Ion nín, you served all of Arda when you joined the Fellowship and for that I am deeply proud of you. You have truly become an adult in this time you have spent away from me – but you have still much to learn. You have to learn that being King means that you have more responsibilities and fewer privileges than you imagine. The power, the prestige, the gratitude, all is hard earned and comes as a steep price. Our lives are not our own . . . no matter what you think.”

Legolas blushed, remembering a recent conversation, in which he had demanded the right to choose; in which he had accused Thranduil of petty manipulation. He had not understood the pressures his father was under – he had been ignorant. “Is nothing of our lives our own?”

“What we make of it – that is ours, our right and our bane. We have duty, obligations but the choice to embrace them or fight them – that is ours.”

Legolas was silent as he thought about what his father had said.

“Do you know why I am King?” Thranduil asked. “Why I claim the title of King, when someone like Lord Celeborn does not?”

Legolas shook his head; he had wondered but never bothered asking his father about it.

“It is a sign of my pledge to the Wood-Elves, and a sign of their need. The Sindar need no King but my people do. As long as they need one, my line will provide them with one. That is the oath my father swore, the pledge I upheld and one that you will fulfil.”

“With my life, my Lord,” Legolas vowed.

“I will hold you to that, Prince Legolas.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Chapter 6 – Acceptance

“Something troubles you, Captain?” Thranduil turned from his son to look at the black-haired elf. He did not want to see the pain and confusion in his son’s eyes and was willing to take any distraction.

*~ He is too young. I wish I did not have to push him into this life. I wish . . . I wish I could just be a father . . . I wish you were here with me, Eruante. You would be proud of him. He will make a fine king. ~*

Thranduil concentrated on the captain, Legolas needed time to understand and accept what he had said. And if Thranduil knew his son, understanding would be swift but acceptance as slow. Obstinacy ran in the family.

“Nothing, my King.”

“Are you sure, Captain? There must be a reason for that frown on your face.” Thranduil insisted.

 “I am just contemplating the promises your Majesty and his Highness made to those people.”

“You disapprove of what was said?”

“It is not my place to disapprove – or approve.”

“We could not have left those people without some assurance, some protection,” Legolas commented – even he could tell that Arandur was displeased.

“Granted that leaving them defenceless would be unacceptable, but how does the King propose to keep his word?” Arandur’s voice was ironic and fairly challenging.

“The Home Guard will protect them.” Legolas was confidant, the Home Guard had weathered many a storm, and they would survive this one as well.

“The Home Guard does not have the required numbers, my Prince. We struggle to protect Mirkwood as it is. Protecting the outlying areas would spread our numbers too thin.”

Legolas barely covered his shock – the Home Guard vulnerable was an alarming thought. “What do you suggest then Captain? Let the elves perish under the next attack. That is as unacceptable.”

Arandur looked at Legolas’ determined jaw, “I will not place my King in danger.”

“And I will not place my people in danger.” Legolas rejoined.

Thranduil watched his son proudly – he was learning. *~ Now only if he accepts the next idea as enthusiastically. ~*

“It will come to neither.” Thranduil voice was calm.

Both elves turned to look at their King.

“We have formed an alliance which will protect Mirkwood.”

Legolas looked at his father in surprise – why had he not been informed about this? In fact, why had he not been told that Mirkwood’s position was so dire? He crushed his resentment to pay attention. Thranduil’s tone gave him alarm.

Arandur lost all colour when he heard Thranduil’s announcement. “My King, you cannot mean . . .?”

“I do.”

“But . . . they  . . . they never would . . . she . . .”

“They have. She has agreed.”

*~ She? Who do you tie us to, father? ~*

Arandur turned away, his face troubled and strangely frightened. Legolas had never seen him so disturbed.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“Ada, would you care to explain who you were talking about?”

“No ion nín, I would not care to explain.”

“Ada, I deserve to know what is going on.”

“You will be told at the appropriate time.”

“Adar . . .”

Thranduil cut Legolas off, “I will not discuss this in front of my Guard. Do not argue with me. I will explain everything when we return.” With that, Thranduil rode forward to enter the city of Mirkwood and greet the people who had gathered to welcome back their King.

 x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

It was a long day – Legolas did not get one moment free to speak to his father.

Elves swarmed around him, eager to welcome him home. He was a hero and had to graciously suffer the eagerness of those around him, when all he wanted to do was talk to his father. Or, failing that, to crawl into bed, and not emerge for a hundred years.

Nonetheless, Legolas smiled, talked, and generally charmed all those around him. He could do no less, it was expected of him. However, some things went above and beyond the call of duty. He quickly ducked into an empty room when he saw Lady Minuial approaching him. As her name implied, she was as lovely as the dawn – long blonde hair, deep blue eyes, perfect rose petal mouth – and the most annoying tendency to simper. Legolas would have been perfectly happy to entertain her on most occasions; she was most pleasing on the eyes. But today, he knew his patience would not stretch so far.

He took a great sigh of relief when he found the room was empty.

“I did not know my Prince could be so cowardly.”

Legolas spun around as he heard the voice. He had thought the room was empty.

“You are looking in the wrong direction, little Legolas.”

Legolas appreciably calmed down when he heard the familiar, beloved voice. “Herenion. Where are you?”

His personal bodyguard stepped out from the pillar behind Legolas. “I taught you better Legolas, you should have seen me,” Herenion frowned.

Legolas smiled, “I was a little distracted.”

“That is no excuse for carelessness.” Herenion’s frown deepened.

Legolas shook his head and smiled, Herenion has been his bodyguard since childhood and still treated him like a child. He often forgot that he addressed the Prince – or chose to disregard it.

“And I will continue to do so until you prove to me that you are worthy of being my Prince.” Herenion knew the reason behind Legolas smile and as readily overlooked it as he did rank.

“Such presumption, Herenion. Maybe I should take offence?” Legolas suggested playfully.

“And if you do, I will still take you over my knee and spank you as I did when you were a child. That is the only punishment for such petulance.”

Legolas laughed, it was impossible to remain angry with Herenion; there was too much love between them to waste it on protocol and formality. Naturally, it helped that Herenion was still capable of showing Legolas a thing or two. Legolas had no doubts that if he ever stepped out of line, Herenion would not hesitate in ‘punishing’ him.

“I have missed thee, tithen Adar.” Legolas stepped forward to embrace the older Elf.    <little father>

“As have I, little Elfling.” Herenion held Legolas tightly. “Cormamin lindua ele lle” He said quietly.            <My heart sings to see thee >

“Amin hiraetha.”            <I am sorry>

“For what, little one?”

“For worrying you, for not telling you before I left, for everything.”

Herenion stepped back to look at Legolas, and smiled. “I have never been prouder of you, Elfling.”

Legolas beamed, this was high praise indeed from Herenion, who usually insisted that Legolas was enough to make him wish for oblivion.

“Now tell me. What are you doing hiding here when people wait for you in the other room?”

Legolas blushed, “I was in there, but then I saw Lady Minuial and . . .”

“Say no more. I understand completely.” Herenion smiled and insisted on escorting Legolas back to the crowd – and Lady Minuial.

 x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

The long day melded into a long night. In honour of Prince Legolas’ return and his great deeds, the King had ordered a large feast to be held.

Naturally, Legolas did not know about this until his servant came to ask him if he wanted anything special aired out for the feast.

“What feast?” Legolas blinked. He had been looking forward to a night of rest and contemplation. He had much on his mind and not enough time to absorb it all. He did not need more throngs of people, just blissful solitude.

“The feast in your honour. The King made the announcement in the morning,” the servant replied smoothly.

Legolas set his jaw; once again, his father had manoeuvred him into doing something unpleasant.

“Did you not know?” The servant’s voice was anxious, he did not like the prince’s annoyed expression.

“It must have slipped my mind. Thank you for reminding me. I will wear the green tunic, with the silver armbands.” Legolas dismissed the boy; there was no reason to upset another Elf – especially when this was not his doing.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas looked at himself in the mirror, making sure that everything was in place. He clicked the silver armbands on and quickly braided the Greenwood knots into his hair – one behind each ear and one in the braid behind his head, knots which only royalty were allowed to wear.

He sighed as his reflection looked back at him – he was Prince Legolas, heir to Mirkwood’s throne – no matter how he disliked the position. He looked at the door and for a moment contemplated running far away from the feast. It annoyed him that he has to waste his time in such pointless activities when he should be out there helping his people. He did not understand why King Thranduil ordered this feast when there was trouble along the borders.

He sighed once more, there was much he did not understand, and only now was realising the magnitude of his ignorance.

The only thing he knew at this moment was that his King was waiting for him.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas stifled a sigh as he tried to block out the sound of some minor lord’s voice.

“ . . . and may I say, we are grateful to Prince Legolas for the bravery and daring he has shown. . .”

He had been hearing the same speech since he had returned. The first time it had pleased him to be acknowledged for the part he had played in the One Ring’s destruction. The fiftieth time he was ready to tear the offending Elf’s head off.

“ . . . so let us raise our glasses to our noble Prince.”

Legolas thanked all the gods he could think of when the Elf finished. *~ But, why does he not sit down? ~*

It was only when he caught Herenion glaring at him did he realise that the Elf Lord expected a few words from him.

Legolas stood and mechanically said, “Thank you, good sir, for those kinds words. I am unworthy of such praise since the part I played was small and something any Elf would have done. Nonetheless, my heart is gladdened to know that I have your esteem, and more importantly, your love.”

With that, he sat down, obviously having pleased the Elf. Legolas would have found it amusing how honeyed words could pacify some people, if he had not been repeating variations of such words through out the day.

As Legolas sat down, he quickly glanced at his father to see if his words had any effect on him. Thranduil’s eyes met his son’s and Legolas could see the merriment in them. Thranduil obviously could tell that his son was uninterested, even if the others could not.

*~ Well then, my son, then it is time to liven the feast. ~*

Thranduil got up from his throne, and called for attention. “My lord and ladies, thank you in helping us welcome back our beloved son, Prince Legolas. He has been greatly missed by us all. Even so, we are proud of him and all that he has accomplished.”

Thranduil raised his glass to Legolas and once again, a toast was drunk.

Legolas was surprised when Thranduil continued his speech, what more was there to say?

Thranduil waited until the murmuring died down across the room. “My lord and ladies, it is with a joyful heart that We take this opportunity to announce the engagement of Our son, Prince Legolas, to Lady Rhinure of the Avari. We hope you will join Us in wishing for their future happiness.”

For a moment, the entire room was deathly silent, as they struggled to understand what Thranduil had just announced. Automatically, they all wished the Prince joy and felicitations. Very soon, the excited, stunned, and a few affronted whisperings began. All wondered how the King had planned this marriage without anyone guessing. Lady Rhinure, who was she? Why was she chosen?

Thranduil sat back pleased with himself, he had managed to confound everyone. This was going better than he planned – then he looked at Legolas. Blue eyes gazed into green – Legolas furious blue eyes bore into Thranduil’s calm ones.

Legolas did not move a muscle, but he burned with anger and embarrassment. His fists tightly clenched the sides of his chairs, and he kept his back rigidly straight. He would not amuse his father further by creating a scene.

How could his father do this to him? Announce HIS marriage to the entire court without telling, discussing it with him first?  Did his father care so little about what his son thought or felt? To learn his betrothed’s name in front of a whole room of strangers!

*~ Rhinure. ~*

Legolas almost choked on the name, his throat closed by bitterness.

His nails dug into his palms, drawing blood. The pain was all that kept him in his senses. Anger boiled under the surface, wild and untrammelled.

*~ Rhinure! ~*

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Chapter 7 – Moriquendi

Legolas remained in his chair until the last guest has left, not trusting his legs to hold him up. He remained still, motionless, letting the anger bleed out of him. Unfortunately, that left him numb – cold.

“My Prince?” Arandur received no response from Legolas. He bent forward and shook him till Legolas looked up.

“My Prince, the King will see you now.”

“He will, will he? How gracious of him!” Legolas smiled, and Arandur almost stepped back. It was a bitter, bleak smile, full of betrayal and sorrow.

 “Take me to him, Captain.” Legolas’ command pulled Arandur back.

“Yes, my Mord.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“Come sit by me, ion nín.”

Legolas entered his father’s chambers, taking in the dim lighting and the fire burning in front of Thranduil.

“Why the lighting Adar? You cannot hide in the shadows from me. I do not have to see you to know what you are feeling. Or so I thought. You disabused me of that notion very effectively tonight.”

 “I am not hiding, nor will I ever do so. The fire soothes me.” Thranduil fell silent, not knowing what to say. His son hurt, and he could feel it.

Legolas gazed at his father, trying and failing to understand. Finally - “Why?”

“I did not want to argue with you again. This marriage is necessary.”

“So instead of explaining it to me, trying one more time, you informed me in front of the entire court. I did not expect that from you Ada, you have never been so cowardly before.”

Thranduil looked sharply at his son, green eyes glittering. “My son, tread carefully.”

“Why Adar, you did not tread carefully with me? Even prisoners are informed of their sentence before it is carried out. You did not even give me that courtesy.”

“I told you, I did not want another argument. This . . .”

“Yes, I know this marriage is necessary. But Ada . . .” Legolas’ voice softened to a whisper, “ . . . did you trust me so little that you could not explain it to me?”

Thranduil started, he had expected, even welcomed Legolas’ anger, but this sorrow was too much to handle.

“Were you so unsure of me, that you had to force me into it? I would have done it for you anyway.” Legolas voice was barely intelligible, but Thranduil did not need to hear the words.

He lowered his head – he had been so pre-occupied in being the King that he forgot that sometimes it is more effective to be a father. Legolas was right, he eventually would have done it for Thranduil, even if he hated the idea. No matter how many arguments they had, eventually he would have submitted. All his father would have had to do was ask, maybe coax a little. And that was problem. Thranduil knew how to command, but he had forgotten how to ask.

“My son, . . . Amin hiraetha.”             <I am sorry>

“Ada . . .” Legolas’ voice finally broke. He left his chair to bend down in front of Thranduil, sitting at his feet, so that he could see into Thranduil’s eyes. “Why?”

Thranduil’s heart twisted – this was his child, his son, pleading in vain. Thranduil had no answers to give him. Of his own violation, his hand came down to stoke Legolas’ golden head. His son, his golden Elf – his child.

Legolas closed his eyes – the last time Thranduil had stroked him like this was the day Eruante left. How he had missed this – how he had missed his father.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas rested his head on his father’s knees, allowing himself to be a child again. A hurt and confused child; it would probably be the last time he would get such a chance.

Thranduil watched his son and his heart swelled with love for him. How he regretted hurting him, how he regretted what he was going to do to him.

Finally, Legolas looked up and asked the question that Thranduil had been dreaded, “Ada, who is Rhinure?”

“She is Avari, and essential for the survival of Mirkwood.”

Legolas got up, a frown marring his smooth forehead, “Avari? But they all died out a ages ago.”

“You better sit down, my son. This is going to take a long time.” Legolas sank back into his chair, not taking his eyes away from Thranduil. “Do you know who the Moriquendi are?”

Legolas nodded, repeating lessons that he had learnt as a child, “Moriquendi . . . Dark Elves. Elves who fell away from the Great Journey and stayed in Middle Earth. It was a name given by the High Elves to all us Elves who remained in Middle Earth and did not see the light of the Two Trees.”

“Then who are the Avari?”

Legolas’ face hardened, “The Avari are an abomination, they are Elves who refused the Valar. Only they truly deserve to be called Dark because they refused the summons. Which is why only the Avari are still called Moriquendi”

“Very good Legolas. A perfect answer, I must remember to commend your tutor. You remember your lessons very well.” Thranduil smiled joylessly. “However, now I am going to tell you something you do not know. Not many people do. The Avari did not die out when Melkor was imprisoned, they are very much present, and by some standards thriving. A large clan of them, the largest I know of, lives in Mirkwood itself.”

“And you allow it?”

“I encourage it. The Avari have been good for Mirkwood.”

“Adar, how can you say that? The Avari are untrustworthy.”

“Legolas, you are too hasty, the Avari have been good allies to us. Who do you think protects are borders at this very point in time? Who do you think repelled that orc attack on that village? The Avari are allies.”

“That dark figure in the forest was a Moriquendi, . . . an Avari?” Thranduil nodded. “This Rhinure you want me to marry, she is Moriquendi?”

“Lady Rhinure, you betrothed, is Avari. She is an Elf, and a friend.”

“If the Moriquendi have been such good allies then why is this marriage necessary?”

“Times change my son. The Avari have tolerated us. They help us on occasion but now that is not enough. Mirkwood is too vulnerable. I would tie the Avari to us closer, bind them in a more formal agreement.”

“Ada, you do not make sense. First, you say that the Avari are good allies, and then you say that they tolerate us. It is one or the other.”

Thranduil smiled, “Everything is relative, Legolas. They are good allies in the sense that they have always delivered what they have promised. Never anything more, never anything less. They have helped when we have asked. However, they do so for their own reason; after nearly four thousand years together, I still do not know what drives them. They are a mysterious people.”

“But what will this marriage achieve.”

“It will harmonise our interests. It will give the Avari a personal stake in Mirkwood.”

“Why would they want a personal stake in Mirkwood?”

“I do not know, but they have agreed to the marriage, so they must want the alliance as much as we do.”

Legolas was shocked, “You agreed without knowing their reasons?”

“We need them Legolas, they are the only fighting force with the numbers and experience to help us.”

“We could ask the other Elves, the humans . . .”

Thranduil held up his hand, “I have already considered this options. With Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel leaving for Valinor the other elves will be as vulnerable. They cannot spare any elves to help us. As for the humans . . . you saw how weak they are. King Elessar is going to need every man, woman and child to rebuild his Kingdom. We cannot expect help from the humans.”

“They would still help – Aragorn would still help.”

“And would you ask it of him? Would you leave his home defenceless so that he can save ours?

Legolas shook his head; he could not to that Aragorn – even if he were sure Aragorn would help whatever the cost.

“Besides, how long will outsiders hold out in Mirkwood? The Avari have had thousands of years of experience in fighting on this terrain. Mirkwood is their home – they will fight for it. We need them.”

Legolas slowly nodded his head; he could not see any flaw in his father’s argument.

“But why a marriage? Why not a treaty?” Legolas asked, a little desperately.

“Lady Rhinure is their equivalent of a princess.” Thranduil answered.

Legolas should have realised this himself, marriage between ruling houses was a common way of cementing alliances. Legolas only hoped that it was enough of a bond.

“How do you know that the Avari will not betray us?”

“Because we do not renege on a bond given.” A quiet voice cut into the conversation.

Legolas startled, found himself looking into the level eyes of Arandur. “You are Moriquendi?” Legolas had difficulty getting the words across.

“I am Avari.”

“Father, how can you have made an Avari the Captain of you Home Guard?” Legolas demanded angrily.

“You are let your prejudices colour your judgment, prince. I swore an oath to protect your father. I stand by that oath.” Arandur eyes flashed. “Or do you insinuate that I have been negligent in some way.”

Legolas looked into those cold black eyes, and saw the menace in them. The Captain seemed different somehow; more real, more natural. The more Legolas thought about it, the clearer it became – Arandur had dropped the mask he often wore. Legolas had often thought Arandur was different – now he knew why. Arandur was Avari – dark and very dangerous.

What had Thranduil gotten him involved in?

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Chapter 8 – Captain

It is said that one’s life can be summed by one’s preconceptions; and Legolas found his entire life crumbling around him. All that he believed in, all that he had been taught was turning out to be false. Legolas gripped his chair as he fought blind panic. His cobalt eyes still defiantly stared into Arandur’s black ones. He was not about to look away from this Dark Elf. Drawing on his reserves, Legolas pushed aside the panic and forced himself to be unmoved – in control.

“I insinuate nothing, but am I supposed to trust an Elf who had lied to me?” Legolas said evenly. Legolas wondered how his voice managed to stay so calm, when his mind was in turmoil.

Arandur was impressed; he did not think the Prince would have handled his challenge so easily. However, his face betrayed nothing, “I have never lied to you, my Prince. I am who I was yesterday, the Captain of Mirkwood’s Home Guard.”

“And a Dark Elf.”

“That I was before.”

“But I did not know that.”

“That is not my doing. I obey the King,” Arandur said blandly. Legolas spared a glance for his father, who seemed to be enjoying this confrontation. If that were what he wished then so be it, Legolas would give his father a performance.

“However, you did not deem it fit to inform me of that fact either.”

“It is irrelevant.”

“Irrelevant? Really? Irrelevant who you are, where you come from? Come, my Captain, I may be young, but please acquit me of such stupidity. Would you trust an orc if he vowed to serve the King?”

“No.” If anything, Arandur’s expression became even colder.

“Then why should I trust you?”

“You should not.”

Legolas was surprised that Arandur admitted it bluntly. He had to admire the Dark Elf’s audacity.

“But I have proved my loyalty to the King and he may trust me.”

Legolas had to concede that fact, since Thranduil still trusted Arandur. However, he was not pleased at the idea.

“I am bound to the King, I will not betray him.”

Legolas wondered what Arandur meant. “So you say.”

Arandur made to say something but Legolas waved him to silence. He did not have the patience to listen to arguments which in the end were fruitless. As long as Thranduil relied on Arandur, Legolas’ trust – or mistrust – was immaterial. Legolas knew that – and so did Arandur.

“Why are you in here, Captain? This is a private conversation between the King and myself.” Legolas said steadily, however there was no mistaking his displeasure.

“I protect the King.” Arandur’s voice in contrast, was expressionless, much like his face. Legolas could not help but wonder if all Avari were so emotionless.

“From me?” The question was like a whip and even Thranduil was surprised. It seemed as if his Elfing had grown up. Arandur faced the Prince of Mirkwood – and an angry one at that.

But Arandur was Avari – he faced the Prince’s displeasure with equanimity. “From anyone.”

Legolas eyes narrowed, “Leave us.” He did not want to deal with this Elf – this Dark Elf anymore.

Arandur glanced at Thranduil, who imperceptibly nodded. Without so much as a backward glance, he left the King’s chambers – back ramrod straight, and gait proud.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“That was cruel of you.” Thranduil commented when Arandur had exited.

“Any more cruel than deceiving me all these years?”

Thranduil inclined his head, acknowledging the validity of that statement.

Legolas looked speculatively at his father, “How many more secrets do you keep from me, my King?”

“As many as are necessary, my Prince.”

Legolas sighed; he was tired of this sparring and this confusion. He needed time to think through all that had happened.

Silence prevailed in the room, as both elves stared into the fire, lost in their own thoughts.

After a few minutes, Legolas’ weary voice asked, “Is there no other choice?”

“None.”

Legolas pressed his throbbing head tightly, hoping to block out the confusion with even more pain. A fleeting thought passed in his head, *~ Gimli would enjoy this if he were here. ~*

Legolas smiled slightly at the thought of his friend. Then he looked up to face his father. “Then . . . tell the Lady Rhinure that I eagerly look forward to our union.”

Thranduil nodded, “You might be pleasantly surprised, little one.”

Legolas’ throat burned, “I do not doubt that I will be surprised – but I fear that it will not be pleasant.”

Thranduil smiled sadly, “Mirkwood thanks you, my son.”

Legolas got up and walked to the door.

Before he left the room, he turned and asked his father, “My Lord, the Avari will not be trusted by the rest of the court.” It was not a question

“Therefore?”

“Why did you announce that Lady Rhinure was from the Avari?”

“When she agreed to this marriage she did not agree to deception. If you are to be married then you will do in the open, with honour.”

“Was that her decision?”

“Yes.”

Legolas nodded and walked out of the room.

 x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas did not know how long he sat in his room, without light, without hope. He should be resting, he did not know when Lady Rhinure would come to Mirkwood but he reckoned that it would be soon. The urgency behind Thranduil’s words indicated that he would insist on a rushed wedding.

Legolas walked out onto the balcony and gazed out on the courtyard. It was a still clear night, a night to be shared with lovers. Something he was unlikely to experience now. While Legolas’ head knew that it was a possibility that he could reach some sort of understanding with his betrothed, his heart rebelled at such an idea.

Legolas had always held an idealised picture of marriage deep within his heart. It was a vow – a bond of love and passion, not some contract between strangers. The very idea of demeaning such a sacred bond into this farce was sickening to him. It was all the more repugnant that his bride was a dark elf. He understood and even agreed with his father’s reasoning – Mirkwood needed the Avari, but he did not like the idea.

The Avari were traitors to the their race, to their beliefs, to the Valar. Allying with them was a necessary evil, but an evil nonetheless.

Legolas bent forward, and rested his arms on the railing. It was ironic, he had spent his entire life denying the shackles his duty placed on him – while never shying away from responsibility, he had always believed that in the end he was free. He had never accepted that being a prince meant having less freedom not more. He had tried so hard, first, to deny the constraints that royal blood placed on him, and when he could not do that, he tried to ignore the problem completely.

The problem – his noble birth. The fact that his blood placed him in this golden cage. It was ironic, a cruel joke played by Fate.

Legolas smiled, wondering how many people in Middle Earth realised that silken sheets and fawning hearts were paid with blood and sweat – with hope, with freedom. Part of his eagerness to go with the Fellowship stemmed from the fact that no rank held between the Nine Walkers. For once, Legolas could do his duty but still not be the focus of attention. He could make a difference, as he so yearned to do, but by his choice.

And more than anything, he could be only Legolas of the Woodland realm amongst those Nine. He did not have to be Prince, lord, and heir. He had never realised what a luxury it was to be appreciated for himself and not for his title.

Legolas brought his palms together and contemplated the mesh his fingers made.

To be appreciated, loved for himself – not for his value in a transaction.

The very thing he had prayed for desired for, had become his biggest nightmare.

Marriage – a union of two souls.

A contract made out between two outsiders for the survival of a nation.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Chapter 9 – Meeting

Legolas sat motionless in his chair, watching as the black sky slowly faded to a dull grey. Soon Anor would rise, and the grey would give way to a riot of colours. The sky would warm to a light pink, like the blush on a fair maiden’s cheeks, and eventually deepen to a warm red – much like blood.

Even the dawn did not bring Legolas the peace it usually did. He had spent the entire night pointlessly analysing what had been said. It did not change the conclusions any – his father had been right. This marriage was needed – by the Wood-Elves if not by him.

Legolas rose from the chair he had spent his night in, and went to wash his face. His body protested as he walked, as if it had been subjected to weeks of battle and not one sleepless night. It amused Legolas that for all its strength against physical harm, the elven body was so susceptible to emotional turmoil. Most people thought that it was tragically romantic that elves could die from a broken heart, but would it move them as much to know that elves could fall ill from severe emotional stress?

Probably not, most liked their tragic heroes to be perfect – perfectly beautiful, perfectly noble – perfectly unreal.

Legolas let the cool water trickle down his face, down his neck and onto his chest. He shivered slightly as the cold morning breeze hit his face. Legolas laughed inconsolably, he had survived a blizzard on the Misty Mountains and here he was, shivering from a chill breeze.

“Was the talk with your father that unbearable?”

Legolas slowly turned to look at Herenion, his eyes bleak. Herenion stepped back at the sight of such empty eyes. It pained to see his charge in such pain.

“Does it matter? I agreed to marry Lady Rhinure.”

“Then . . . I suppose congratulations are in order?”

“Yes, congratulate me, Herenion. I have just done what I vowed I would never do. I gave up – on my dreams, on my goals, on hope.”

“It will be become easier, little one.”

“Either way, it is a matter of indifference to me now. I will do what duty commands me.” Legolas straightened, slowly restoring himself. He was Prince Legolas Thranduilion – it was time for him to put the naïve Legolas behind him. It was time for him to grow up.

“And you will do it well . . . Heru en amin.” <My lord, - formal>

Nothing hammered in the difference in Legolas than those few words whispered in the Silvan tongue. Herenion had never addressed Legolas so formally. It had never mattered; Legolas had always been his pupil, his little Elfing. Now he was Herenion’s lord – respected, deferred to – and alone.

It hurt.

 “Come, Herenion. I would speak to my father. I neglected to ask him certain questions which I would have answered now.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas arrived outside Thranduil’s chambers, only to find his way barred by Arandur. “Announce me.”

“The King does not wish to be disturbed at his moment.”

“Announce me.” Legolas commanded curtly.

Arandur bowed sharply, and disappeared inside.

“Why such a sharp tone, my prince? Has Arandur offended you in some way?”

“He has lied to me.”

“So you have found out.”

Legolas glanced back at Herenion, who walked two steps behind the prince – as protocol demanded. “Did you always know?”

“Yes.”

Legolas did not bother asking why Herenion did not deem in necessary to tell him – it was a redundant question. Until the King decided it was time for Legolas to know, none of his staff would ever open their mouths – even one like Herenion, who loved Legolas.

It was the way things were – and Legolas had to learn to accept it. Legolas should have expected no less. “How did you know?”

“Thranduil felt that I should know since I was your body guard.”

The unspoken implication was that in the end, the Heir’s safety was entrusted to a Wood-Elf and not to an Avari. So, Thranduil did not trust Arandur completely – Legolas would have to remember that. Legolas nodded, indicated that he had understood.

“Besides, Thranduil was never able to keep a secret from me.” Herenion grinned, at one point in time he had been Thranduil’s bodyguard and had watched him grow up – as he had watched Legolas.

Arandur re-appeared, “The King will see you now.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas placed himself near the window as he waited for Thranduil to finish looking over some papers.

Arandur placed himself behind Thranduil, much like Herenion placed himself behind Legolas. Both kept a close eye on each other, and left themselves enough room to act quickly if something untoward happened. The mutual respect the two elves normally shared was completely missing in their present stances.

Legolas had never realised, or never bothered thinking about it, but the two bodyguards had completely different priorities. One protected the King and the other served the Prince. Each would act with deadly force to remove all and any threats – even if it meant eliminating the other. In this room, they were adversaries.

The thought made Legolas slightly ill. Nonetheless, in some deep corner of his heart he was grateful for Herenion’s presence. Legolas could still clearly remember the searing menace in Arandur’s eyes. While it would not do to admit such fear, Herenion’s unquestioned loyalty was a comfort.

Legolas wondered when Arandur, admired Captain of the Home Guard, had become Moriquendi. When had mistrust filled his heart, where only esteem reigned before?

*~ When turned those dangerous eyes at me – and I learnt how dark his soul could be. ~*

Legolas warily watched Arandur, trying to reconcile the two images he had of the Elf – Captain and Moriquendi – honourable elf and deceiver.

 *~ Are all Avari like you? Is Rhinure like you? ~*

Legolas watched and deduced what he could – he needed to learn something, anything about his Lady.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“What was it that you wanted to speak to me about?”

Thranduil’s question brought Legolas back from his musings. “How long before Lady Rhinure arrives in Mirkwood?”

“She should be arriving soon, probably tomorrow, to oversee last minute details.”

“Then I can expect the marriage to take place fairly soon.”

“Yes, but I thought it best if you and Lady Rhinure decided that amongst yourself.”

“As long as we do not delay for too long?” Legolas asked dryly.

“As long as you do not delay at all.” Thranduil said.

“Will I have an opportunity to invite any of my companions to my wedding?”

“You have friends in Mirkwood.”

“That is not what I asked.”

“We do not have the time to arrange a wedding suitable enough for other rulers. And neither do we have the time to gather all of Middle-Earth to Mirkwood.”

Legolas nodded, he had been expecting as much. His wedding would be a rushed affair, at best, not the intricately detailed event that Aragorn’s was. The brutal truth was that is was not safe, for Mirkwood or for his friends, to attend. It would take too long to plan, and would present too tempting a target. However, this meant that Legolas would not have the friends that were dearest to him at his joining.

It was peculiarly appropriate.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Herenion watched Legolas string his bow and collect his arrows. “Where do you think you are going, my Lord?”

“Patrolling.”

“I think not. The King will not be pleased if anything happens to you.”

“Herenion, I am more than capable of looking after myself. Anyway, I will be taking a contingent of the Guard with me and I will have you. I do not need more protection than that.”

Herenion tried to suppress his sigh of relief, but Legolas’ sharp ears caught it anyway.

“Herenion, I am not stupid. I am not about to ride out into Mirkwood without an adequate escort.”

Herenion’s embarrassed grin caused Legolas to smile, “I just thought . . .”

“That I was too angry to think straight?” Legolas completed the sentence with a hint of exasperation. Herenion could only nod. “Not yet, little father – not yet. It will take a lot more than bitter news for me to lose control.”

“I am beginning to learn that, little Elfing.” Herenion relaxed, not only did Legolas seem calmer, he seemed to be recovering from the shock as well.

As Legolas turned to pick up his daggers, his smile abruptly ended – let Herenion think that he was feeling better. One less Elf worrying.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas called the company to a halt, “There are riders approaching.”

Silently, his men faded into the trees, fanning out to surround the nearing riders.

It was about a minute when three Elven steeds broke into the clearing. Before they could go any further, Faelon, the lieutenant of the company, stepped out of the shadows, bow raised. The riders came to an abrupt halt at the sight of the armed elf.

“What business to do you have in Mirkwood?” Faelon asked.

“Our business is our own; we would see your King.”

“And who might you be?”

“We are Lady Rhinure’s escort.”

“And where is Lady Rhinure?” Faelon did not move a muscle; his bow remained pointed at the throat of the lead rider.

“Behind you.” A low voice caused Faelon to spin around, only to find himself facing the point of blade.

Legolas blinked, he had been concentrating of the riders so much so that he had missed the fourth figure – Lady Rhinure, presumably. A very effective trick. She was good; from what Legolas could tell, his other fighters had missed her too.

Legolas stepped out from the shadows to join his lieutenant; “We welcome you to Mirkwood, my Lady. May we escort you to the King?”

Rhinure glanced at Legolas, taking in his royal insignia. Only then did she remove the blade from Faelon’s throat. “You may, Prince Legolas.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Chapter 10 – Rhinure

Rhinure whistled for her horse and lightly vaulted on it. The other three riders quickly fell into position around her. Two riders alongside and one right behind her; protecting her from all sides except the front. Legolas noted this with interest – the Home Guard generally surrounded him, covering him from attack from any corner. He wondered why the Avari did not do the same.

As the company called their own horses, Legolas studied the Moriquendi. Unfortunately, he did not get far. All four wore identical black cloaks, with large hoods obscuring their faces. Legolas could not clearly see what they were wearing under their cloaks, though from the barest of glimpses he got – they seemed to be wearing black.

The concealment was so effective that ‘she’ could be a ‘he’ for all Legolas could tell. Legolas tried to get a glimpse under the cloak, but the angle ‘she’ kept her head at meant that he would have to crane his neck to see under the hood.

“Are we ready to leave yet, my Lord?” Rhinure reminded Legolas that the entire company was awaiting his orders. The speaker’s voice was definitely female, low but still high-pitched enough not to belong to a male elf.

For a second, Legolas contemplated demanding that she – and the rest of her escort – lower their hoods in order to be identified. But the more he thought about it the more trivial it seemed; he would not be able to pick out his wife-to-be in a crowd of one. He had neglected to ask Thranduil about what Rhinure looked like.

He would have to take her at her word. However, he was not comfortable with the idea.

He signalled the Guard to remain on alert.

If the Avari noticed that the Wood-Elves hands did not stray from their bows and blades, they did not comment, or indicate that anything was amiss. They calmly waited until Legolas gave the order to return home.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Thranduil waited at the steps of the palace, obviously having been informed of Lady Rhinure’s arrival.  Legolas was glad someone had the foresight to inform his father, he was having trouble thinking straight at this point in time.

Truth be told, he was having trouble breathing. Panic threatened to engulf him, he felt a strong hand grip his heart and squeeze it till Legolas was afraid it would burst. Legolas glanced at Rhinure, what was she thinking at this moment. Did it even matter?

Herenion gently placed his hand on Legolas’ shoulder, “Keep control, little one. Be strong, remember who you are and why you do this.”

Legolas nodded and descended. He walked towards Lady Rhinure’s horse, intending to offer to help her dismount. She looked down at him, and slipped off the horse without assistance.

Her three shadows, silently fell behind her as she approached Thranduil.

“Lady Rhinure, we did not expect you so soon.” Thranduil stepped forward to greet her, his face smiling but his eyes were wary.

“I did not feel it prudent to delay longer.” A slight turn of the head in Legolas’ direction told him that she had doubts about his willingness. She probably wanted to be here in personal to make sure everything went smoothly – as was to be expected from a princess.

“Mistress, you have come.” Arandur stepped aside from the King. He bent on one knee and brought his fist to his heart.

“Amin naa lle nai”     <I am yours to command >

Arandur have never bowed to Thranduil before and now Legolas knew why. Arandur might have vowed to serve and protect Thranduil but ultimately his loyalty lay with the Avari – with his people, with this elf-maid.

“Arise, my servant. I am pleased to see thee well.” Rhinure answered formally.

Arandur arose and Rhinure turned to Thranduil, “We have been riding for many days, my Lord. If you do not mind could we be shown to our rooms?”

Thranduil nodded, “Let Prince Legolas show you to your rooms.”

Legolas stepped forward as Rhinure turned to face him. Her hands came up to lift her hood back.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

For a minute, Legolas held his breath as Rhinure lowered her hood. For a minute, he hoped – hoped for what? Hoped that the elleth he was promised to would make everything okay. He was hoping for a vision, someone to make his heart race and make him forget all the troubles that had plagued him in the recent days.

Rhinure was dark – black hair scarped back tightly in a bun, black eyes that burned with a black gaze. Legolas could not help but compare her to Arwen, to Rhinure’s detriment. Arwen’s dark beauty was compelling, unusual – Rhinure’s was withering. She seemed to suck the light around her until she felt like a dark stain in the bright light.

It was not that she was not beautiful – as an Elf that would have been impossible – but neither was she stunning. She was, for lack of a better word, adequate. She was someone who your eyes would overlook in a crowd, someone who you would skim over if you saw them casually. She was at best, pleasant looking.

At least, she would have been, if there were any hint of warmth in her face. She stood dispassionately as Legolas examined her. She showed neither interest nor discomfort at his scrutiny. And that was probably what unnerved Legolas the most; he had been used to getting some reaction from ellyth. He was handsome and he knew it; most elves at least blushed under his look if not delighted.

Rhinure, on the other hand, stood to attention as if she were a guard under inspection. And Legolas realised, that to her, it probably was an inspection – a prince inspecting his goods. At that thought, Legolas let his eyes fall from her face; ashamed that he had been so rude.

“If you are done, Prince Legolas, may we be shown to our quarters?”

Legolas looked at Rhinure, she did not seemed to be offended – she did not seem to have even noticed his examination. Her face was impassive. Legolas realised that the stone mask that Arandur wore, was common to all Avari. He looked over her escort, who had their hoods down as well – sure enough, their faces were as expressionless.

 Legolas extended his arm to Rhinure, “If my Lady would like to follow me?”

This time she did not refuse, taking his arm she followed him.

Legolas could not help but feel that her touch was cold.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas escorted Rhinure to the set of rooms that had been given to her. It was a silent walk, she did not seem to be very interested in conversation and he kept surreptitiously glancing at her profile. He racked his brains to think of something – anything, to say to her but failed.

“These, my Lady, are you rooms. We were not expecting you so soon, so please excuse the state they are in.”

The rooms were very spacious and overlooked the gardens. The sun streamed in from the large windows, and warmed the rooms. They were beautiful rooms, and were pleasantly decorated with many vases of flowers. The sweet smell permeated the senses as one entered.

Rhinure looked at one of her escorts, an elleth, Legolas was surprised to note.

“The room is generally defensible, though the windows might present a problem. It will do – for now.”

Legolas gritted his teeth – not liking the implication that Mirkwood could not look after its new princess. “I assure you, my Lady that you will not lack for any comfort here, and you will be more than adequately guarded.”

The elleth stepped forward, “I am Ehtewen, Lady Rhinure’s First Guard. We protect her, we always have, and we will decide when she is ‘more than adequately guarded’.”

Legolas choose not to take affront at that matter-of-fact declaration – though he could have, easily. Rhinure watched as he graciously bowed to Ehtewen and said, “I am glad that my lady has such dedicated bodyguards.”

Rhinure did not miss the slight stress Legolas put on the word ‘my’, reminding Ehtewen who she spoke to.

Neither did Ehtewen.

Rhinure turned to face Legolas, “Will these be my quarters permanently?”

“No, my Lady, you will move to the Princess’ chambers when the ceremony is finished.”

“May I ask, why I have not been assigned those rooms now?”

Legolas blinked, “Because they are next to mine.”

Rhinure lifted one of her eyebrows questioningly.

Legolas looked at her, not sure how to answer her. Why was she not given the Princess’ chambers now? Their marriage was certain, and it was not as if he was going to take ‘advantage’ of her being near him. And from her demeanour, she did not seem the type who gave in to ‘impulses’. There was nothing injurious in being so near – except to custom.

“It is expected that you do not move in till you are married – to me.” Legolas said slowly, unwilling to say the last words.

Rhinure nodded, if it was a custom of her Lord’s peoples then she would abide by it.

Legolas hid the relief that her answer caused. He wanted the last few days of freedom to be days of solitude as well.

Legolas bowed, and turned to leave the room. “I will send someone to show your escort to their rooms as well.

“There is no need. My Guard stays with me.”

Legolas’ lips thinned at that answer; so Rhinure did not put her trust in Mirkwood’s defences either.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Ehtewen watched Legolas leave the room, “He seemed angry.”

Rhinure, eyes locked at the door, absentmindedly nodded, “He does not control his emotions well. His face is expressive, and his eyes scream what he feels.”

“They all share their emotions,” Morion, Second Guard of the Avari pointed out.

“We must tread carefully, they seem to be easily affronted,” Istion, the last elf in Rhinure’s guard, observed.

“Very easily, I was sure that Prince Legolas was going to strike me,” Ehtewen said.

Rhinure shook her head, “No, whatever he feels, he will not lost control so easily. Do not underestimate him. He is not Avari, but he is not so simple either.”

The three guards nodded, taking the warning to heart.

“He is not unpleasant to look at. Though he is blond, I am certain he will be pleasing in bed.” Ehtewen mused.

“It is irrelevant. I will marry him because I must. Whether he pleases me or not, I will do my duty.” Rhinure’s face did not betray any distress at that thought.

The three guards nodded, and went to check the room to weaknesses. None of their eyes held the slightest sympathy for her situation.

Pity was not to be wasted – what was, was. If it could not be changed, then it was senseless to commiserate.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Istion opened the door, admitting Arandur in to see Rhinure.

“Mistress, I wish to speak to you.”

Rhinure waved him to a chair in front of him.

Arandur sat down, and stared at her. “Mistress, what possessed you to agree to this marriage?”

“I do what is best for the Avari – as I have always done, Arandur.”

“How can binding yourself to the Prince be good for our people?”

“We gain allies, how can that be a bad thing?”

“We do not need allies.” Arandur’s voice became deadly, “The Avari have always looked after their own – we not need outsiders.”

“That is your opinion, I do not agree.” Rhinure’s voice was as lethal.

“You are wrong. The Wood-elves would just use us – as the Eldar always have.”

“And we will use them. It is a fair bargain.”

“They do not trust us.”

“It is immaterial, we do not trust them either.” Arandur clenched his fists, a sign of how angry he was. Rhinure watched him without moving a muscle, but somehow conveying that she was dissatisfied with his emotional display. “You will bind yourself to an Eldar, vow to him, give him your Honour. To demean yourself like that demeans us all.”

“Be careful Arandur. I let you speak, but do not presume to instruct me. I am Sacrifice, not you. It is my decision.”

“Not if you continue is such a irresponsible manner.” Arandur almost spat the sentence out.

“That is enough.” Rhinure’s voice was like a whip. Its cold menace, quickly brought Arandur back to his senses.

Without a word, Morion drew his blade.

“Never question my commitment to my people.” Rhinure’s eyes burned – they were so cold that Arandur knew he had gone too far.

Morion brought his blade to Arandur’s neck – he did not move, his life was now forfeit.

“I could have your head for this, Arandur.”

Morion pressed the blade slightly into Arandur’s neck.

“You have lived too long with these Elves. You forget who you are.” Arandur inwardly flinched at Rhinure’s words. He had lost control of his emotions.

“You forget who I am. I am your Sacrifice. I am Avari.”

Morion held the blade calmly, and looked into the Captain’s eyes. “Do you wish to beg for your life, Captain? Our Sacrifice can be merciful,” he asked quietly.

“Never. Avari do not beg. I am Avari.” Arandur was calm now.

“Remember that. Do your duty as you vowed to, Arandur, otherwise I will reverse my decision. Let him go.” Morion quickly sheathed his blade at Rhinure’s command.

“Leave me now, and do not do this again, Arandur.” Rhinure looked at the Captain and he knew that next time, Morion would take his head off – no questions asked.

Arandur stood up and walked towards the door. Before he could leave, Ehtewen whispered into his ear, “If you ever speak to her in that manner, I will make you wish you had never been born.”

It was no idle threat, and Arandur knew it.

 x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Chapter 11 – Feast

Arandur felt the door close behind him though he did not turn around to confirm it. He quickly walked away from Rhinure’s chambers, appalled at what had happened. How could he have attacked her like that? He knew he was lucky to have kept his head – maybe Rhinure was right, maybe he had been spending too much time with the Wood-elves.

He had served Thranduil well, to the utmost of his capabilities, as he had been ordered to. After almost 2000 years in the King’s service, he had even formed a begrudging bond of respect with the Sindar. However, Rhinure’s presence reminded him of how different he was from the rest of the elves.

As he passed through the corridors, ignoring the guards and servants alike, he realised that he wished to return to his people. He would have requested Rhinure to replace him but he doubted she would listen to him. She would probably insist that he stay – if only to spite him.

He was so pre-occupied that he missed Herenion standing in the shadows, watching him walk away.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Herenion’s eyes narrowed as he watched Arandur leave Rhinure’s room. His elven senses screamed that the Captain was troubled – more than Herenion had ever seen him. Herenion debated whether to stay at Rhinure’s door or follow Arandur. He chose the latter option, intrigued at Arandur’s abnormal behaviour.

Arandur passed the soldiers standing at the entrance of the ellyth’s Quarter. One of them was clearly thinking of something else – though his body remained at attention, his face had a faraway, lost look about it.

Would Arandur notice, Herenion wondered.

“Lieutenant, if you cannot follow orders, maybe I should have you removed.” Arandur noticed – and was plainly unhappy. “Maybe someone else would like to take your post?” Arandur’s voice was almost silky in its courtesy. Herenion could not help but wince in sympathy when the young elf literally quaked under his Captain’s scrutiny.

Whatever Rhinure had done to him, Arandur had not lost any of his presence. “Pay attention to what you are doing. Smarten up, or I will do it for you.”

“Yes sir.” The young soldier, almost stammering in relief at being let off with a verbal reprimand only.

Rhinure must have really shaken up Arandur – if he was not punishing the guard any further.

*~ Legolas must be told of this. ~* Herenion slipped away, unnoticed by Arandur or the other guards.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas waited impatiently for Herenion in his chambers. Today, not even his bow could distract him from his troubles. He spun around when he heard someone enter his chambers. His nerves were stretched to their limit.

“Well?” Legolas anxiously questioned Herenion, as the older elf slowly entered the room.

“You were correct, he did go to see her.” Herenion fell silent, trying to formulate the best response.

“And?”

“It was not a long conversation, he could not have been there for more than ten, maybe fifteen minutes.”

“Good, he cannot have told her much in that time.” Legolas nodded, sinking into his chair, satisfied for now. He had been worried about Arandur and Rhinure spending too much time together.

“What did you expect him to tell her?”

“Nothing, everything. I really do not know.” Legolas clasped his hands together, frowning vaguely. He was not ready to express his fears to Herenion at the moment. It was very likely that Arandur was a spy for the Avari – except that he had been in Mirkwood’s service for generations. A spy would have slipped up by now – unless he was truly superb. In Arandur’s case, Legolas could not rule out any option.

If Arandur was a spy – then Rhinure probably had detailed information about Mirkwood’s capabilities, defences and weaknesses. Normally, that would not have bothered Legolas – after all Rhinure and her people were elves, and therefore trustworthy. However, this was hardly a normal situation - it bothered Legolas, it worried him no end.

He did not trust Rhinure, she was Avari. And more importantly, he knew nothing about her – Thranduil had blithely asserted that the Avari had the required numbers to help protect Mirkwood, but that did not tell Legolas anything. Until he learned better, he would treat Rhinure with suspicion and keep her in the dark. It was best if dubious characters like her were not treated with complete honesty.

“It is best that we keep an eye on him.” Legolas finally said. There was no clear plan for him to follow – he was wary of Rhinure but she was going to be his wife and ally. He should have faith in her, but he could not. Thoughts like this led him nowhere. Legolas decided that patience was the most prudent course of action.

“You do not trust him, do you?” Herenion asked.

“Really? Whatever gave you that idea?” Legolas asked sarcastically.

Herenion grinned, “Oh, the fact that you had me spying outside my Princess’ door, gave me some clue.”

“She is not your princess.” Legolas’ retort was instinctive.

“Yet.”

Legolas could not answer that. Silence once more fell across the room.

“What did you think of her?”  Herenion asked curiously.

Legolas thought about the question. He was not sure what to make of Rhinure, her motives. His feelings could just be prejudice; Legolas was truthful enough to admit that to himself. After all, he knew nothing about this maiden – she genuinely could be helpful and kind. As soon as the thought had crossed his mind, he had to suppress a snort of derision. Such naivety would not do in a prince.

“She is different.” Legolas finally answered.

“That she is, whatever happened in her room, left Arandur quite shaken.”

“How can you tell?” Legolas asked, genuinely curious – the Captain was notoriously difficult to read.

“Arandur did not see me spying. Normally, he would have me pinned against the wall for such presumption.”

Legolas knew this to be true – the last Elf that had spied on Arandur had ended up at the Healer’s Hall. “So she can break through his armour. That is interesting – very interesting. I wonder how she did it?” Legolas fell silent, thinking of his bride-to-be.

Herenion waited impatiently, hoping to get more of a personal insight from his charge. Finally, he could not take it anymore, “Is that all you can say? What do you think of her? Does she please you? Do you think you will be happy with her? At least tell me if you find her pretty?” Legolas’ closemouthed attitude was beginning to irritate Herenion.

“I think she cannot be trusted either. She had an agenda of her own.” That was the only answer Legolas was prepared to give at this point.

“That is to be expected, after all she is the ruler of her people. To anticipate that she will not to look out for them is folly.”

“Ruler? I thought she was a princess.” Legolas looked puzzled.

“From what Thranduil can gather, the Avari do not have royalty as we do. However, Rhinure is the closest thing they have to a ruler.”

“Closest thing?”

“She is called their Sacrifice. It does not sound like a position of authority to me, but . . .” Herenion trailed off – it did not have be said that they knew very little of the Avari

“Sacrifice? I wonder . . .” Legolas fell silent, chewing over this morsel of information. What did it mean?

“Maybe you can ask her.” Herenion suggested.

“Ask her what?” Legolas looked up distractedly.

“Ask her about her title. Ask her about her people.”

“She would not answer me truthfully.” Legolas was sure of that – Rhinure struck him as a very closemouthed person.

“How can you be so sure? You have known her for only five minutes.” Herenion could not help retorting, though he knew that Legolas had hit on the truth of the matter.

“I just am.”

Herenion was very tempted to roll his eyes, but refrained because he could see that Legolas was being serious. “It does not matter, you should just talk to her.”

“And why would I want to do that?” Legolas inquired – very politely.

“Because she is going to be your wife!”

“And I am trying my utmost to forget that for as long as possible.” Legolas waved Herenion to be silent, as he massaged his temple.

“Did you dislike her that much, little one?” Herenion asked gently.

“I really cannot say, I do not know her,” Legolas paused, unsure how to put his feeling into words, which would not upset his old friend even further. “She makes me uneasy, she is so still and so silent.” Legolas weakly ended.

“Sounds like Arandur.”

“It is probably an Avari trait.”

“Well, I am certain that you will be able to bring her out of her shell.”

Legolas smiled, Herenion’s confidence in him was heartening – but he knew that it was not going to be as simple.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

The evening found Legolas dressing for another feast that Thranduil had decided to throw – this time in honour on Lady Rhinure. Legolas could only wonder how the palace staff actually managed to get everything ready in time.

Legolas stifled a sigh; this was going to be another long evening.

He smoothed the pale green tunic he was wearing, even if he was not looking forward to the evening it did not mean that he could afford to be careless with his appearance. What he wore, the amount of effort he put into it – were all signs of the respect he held for the Lords of the Kingdom. It was a matter of politeness that he be presentable.

He put on his crown – the slender silver almost getting lost in his gold hair. The symbol of his royalty – Legolas stared at it. It was not often he wore the Heir’s crown; it felt alien on his head, like he had stolen something from his father. With another suppressed sigh he headed towards Rhinure’s rooms. It was his duty to escort his betrothed to Hall and present her to the assembled company.

 x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Rhinure’s door opened before Legolas could knock on it. Ehtewen greeted him with a “You are late.”

“Yes, well, I was momentarily delayed.”             *~ By the thought of how awkward this evening is going to be. ~*

“My Lady is waiting for you.”

Legolas gratefully entered, Ehtewen made him uneasier that Rhinure did – if that was possible. She reminded him of a female Arandur, which was a very disconcerting thought.

“My Lady, I am to escort you . . .” The rest of the words died on Legolas’ lips.

“Is anything the matter, my Lord?” Rhinure asked.

“No . . . of course not, I was just taking in your appearance.” Legolas covered for his lapse.

“Does it meet with your approval?”

How to answer that?

Rhinure was wearing a black dress for the feast. It was almost stark in its simplicity. There was no decoration or pattern worked on the dress; it was just a long piece of black silk. It was very simple, something to be worn on a funeral – or a battlefield, Legolas thought, as he took in her stance.

Her hair was pulled back into the bun and she wore nothing in her hair. It made her face seem paler than it was, almost drawn. It was a utilitarian costume – and though Rhinure showed no uneasiness, Legolas got the distinct impression that she was not comfortable in the dress. Or it could be that she was not comfortable with the way he was looking at her – in shock. All Legolas could think of was that she was going to look like a raven among the Lords and Ladies.

The only ornament she wore were three silver rings on her right hand. Slender chains connected them to a silver bracelet on her wrist. It was an intriguing piece of jewellery and Legolas wondered why she had bothered with it at all.

Then he noticed the rest of her Guard, they all wore similar rings and bracelets on their right hands. Ehtewen had three rings as well, while the elves had two. It was clearly not meant to be an ornament.

Morion’s discreet cough, made Legolas realise that Rhinure was still waiting for an answer.

“My Lady, you will be the most striking Lady at the feast.” 

*~ And not in a pleasant way. ~*

Rhinure raised an eyebrow – Legolas knew that she was not fooled by the compliment. She truly did not seem to care about what she looked like.

“I think we should be leaving now, my lady. My father will be waiting for us.” Legolas offered Rhinure his arm, which she took.

As the started to move, all three of her Guard started to follow. Legolas shook his head, “I am sorry, but you cannot come. The King does not allow armed guards in the Hall.”

Rhinure’s eyes narrowed, “They will not be seen.”

“Nevertheless, I cannot permit to come with them.”

Legolas could see the other three Avari straighten, ever so slightly, at the implied command.

“You will have a First Guard?” Rhinure asked

“First Guard?” Legolas asked, confused.

“A … bodyguard?” Rhinure had to pause for a second to find the right Sindarin word.

Legolas nodded, Herenion would never have allowed Legolas to leave his chambers unless a bodyguard accompanied him.

“Then my First Guard will come as well.”

Legolas was tempted to argue, but looking at Rhinure’s determined eyes and Ehtewen’s dangerous ones, he knew it was useless to argue. He could argue that only royalty were allowed to have bodyguards in the Hall, but he realised that would only reinforce Rhinure’s argument. After all, she was also royalty – or would be very soon.

“As you wish, my Lady.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

As Legolas predicted, Rhinure created quite a stir at the feast. Most were shocked at her appearance, and the other few were disgusted. The minority were also the ones who knew what an Avari was.

Rhinure, however, was indifferent to the stares of the elves around her. She proudly walked across the hall and as Legolas seated her at the King’s right hand, he could only wonder at her composure.

As he took his seat next to her, he noticed Arandur standing in his usual place behind the King. He too wore the three rings and the bracelet, in exactly the same fingers Rhinure wore them on.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

As Legolas had predicted, the feast was an uncomfortable one for everyone involved. Legolas had caught many a shocked glance fall on Rhinure and Ehtewen. It seemed as if the Wood-elves were slowly beginning to comprehend how different their new princess was from them.

Legolas tried to engage her in conversation, but neither he nor Rhinure were particularly interested in talking.  “Did you like the food, my Lady?”

“It was well-made.”

“Do you like Mirkwood?”

“I have not seen much of it, but it seems pleasant from what I can tell.”

 Other meaningless questions were asked back and forth – until Legolas gave up. If she wanted to eat in silence then he would more than happy to oblige.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

After the food was cleared, the guests moved onto the adjoining room. Though it was primarily a dance hall, it was being used today as a casual standing area. It allowed Rhinure the opportunity to mingle amongst the nobles. As Legolas escorted her round the room, he could only hope that there would not be an incident.

He was partially vindicated in his hope. Most of the questions were predictable, as were the answers. No one actually dared to ask her anything more than how her journey was and ended by welcoming her to Mirkwood. Her face was forbidding without overtly being so – Legolas was very tempted to ask her how she did that, but he did not want to condone what he considered rudeness.

Then they passed by Lady Minuial. Legolas had to admit that she looked stunning in her pale pink dress. Her cheeks were rosy and her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. Legolas smiled appreciatively and she very prettily blushed.

Rhinure watched Legolas watch Lady Minuial. She would have found it amusing how her betrothed stared at this she-elf; that is, if Lady Minuial had not decided to question Rhinure.

“Welcome, Lady Rhinure.” Lady Minuial happily said.

“Thank you.”

“You are very lucky … to have caught Legolas. Many a female have tried and failed miserably.”

“Obviously, they should have tried harder.” Rhinure’s response was non-committal, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with Minuial. If she felt that Legolas was a ‘catch’ she was entitled to her opinion – no matter what Rhinure personally thought.

Lady Minuial stumbled over Rhinure’s answer, not knowing whether to take it as a teasing comment or not. Rhinure seemed to be serious – did she really believe that Legolas could have been caught, like an animal?

“Yes … well …” Lady Minuial’s eye fell upon Ehtewen and she did a double take.

“Is that your bodyguard?” Lady Minuial asked doubtfully.

“Yes.”

“But … but … she’s female!” Lady Minuial took as hasty step back, afraid to be near Ehtewen. She scrupulously avoided touching the First Guard with any portion of her dress. It was as if she was afraid, that the slightest of touches would permanently soil her. 

“And?” Rhinure did not miss the way Lady Minuial shrank back – she doubted that anyone in the room had missed the action.

Legolas could sense the impatience in that answer, even if Minuial could not.

“And … it is unnatural. A woman wielding a blade, dressing up in a tunic. It is disgusting,” Lady Minuial spluttered, not seeing the warning in Rhinure’s eyes. She did not notice the way Rhinure pulled her body even straighter. She blithely lectured Rhinure on the impropriety of having ellyth wielding weapons.

Legolas winced as he felt Rhinure freeze.

“I would be careful before making statements like that in front of a person with a blade. Ehtewen is very capable it … no matter how unnatural it may be.” Rhinure’s voice was deceptively polite, but even Lady Minuial could not mistake the threat in it.

 Her eyes widened in horror as she stared at Rhinure.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, my Lady. I hope to repeat the experience … soon.”

With that Rhinure started walking off, she would have let go of Legolas’ arm if he had not held on to it. She looked at him when he kept her arm in his grasp. She had the most black eyes Legolas had ever seen; they almost seemed to have no iris. They smouldered with such a cold flame that Legolas could feel himself corrode. It was the only indication that Rhinure was furious at the insult. Her face remained smooth.

If Legolas had bothered to glance at Ehtewen’s face, he would have seen the same expressionless face. However, there was no mistaking her anger either if one looked at her eyes.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas wearily stumbled into his chambers – it had been a longer evening that he had expected. All he wanted to do was collapse onto his bed, and forget this entire evening.

However, Herenion was making it difficult by insisting on making comments about the feast. “What ever possessed Lady Rhinure to wear a black dress? People were unsure about her as it is, and now it is even worse.”

Legolas raised his face from the pillow he had buried it in, “Maybe she does not care.”

“Well she should, she is going to be their princess.”

“And how do you propose that she ingratiate herself?”

“Well, for a start she could smile a little more.”

Legolas could not agree more; it was disconcerting talking to someone who never smiled. Even after years of experience with Arandur, he was still not used to it. It was much worse in a she-elf – especially a she-elf he was going marry.

“Did you see her eyes after Lady Minuial finished her ill-omened observation?” Herenion’s observation broke through his musings.

Legolas groaned; he really did not want to think of that scene again.

“I really though she was going to cry insult and slice Lady Minuial’s head.”

“Whom are you talking about?” Legolas finally asked, he had clearly missed some of the conversation.