Chapter Thirty Nine

It was shortly after the noon meal, when the courier arrived. He was a small, dark-haired elf, bearing a message from Balardoron, Crown Prince of Mirkwood, to his father, King Thranduil. Without delay, the courier, Cúran by name, was directed to the third floor residents’ rooms and told to wait in the hall outside of Legolas’s room while Thranduil was informed of his arrival.

At first, the king thought that it was merely a message from his family, inquiring about Legolas’s condition and sending good wishes for his complete recovery. Thranduil had notified them the day before everyone had followed the youngest prince to the forest to confront Mordraug. The king had not mentioned Mordraug’s involvement in the whole affair. That was the one thing that Thranduil thought should be handled in person, especially since Mordraug had been the one who had killed his children's mother.

The message, however, proved to be something quite different.

Thranduil read the piece of parchment with growing concern. By the time he finished, he was upset. He held the paper in his left hand and then angrily crumpled it up, tempted to throw it on the floor. Prudence made him shove it into one of his pockets instead.

The courier stood by impassively. He had dealt with delivering messages to the king far too often to be rattled by his sovereign’s reactions, whatever they may be. He had only rumors to go on, regarding what may be in the message he had just delivered, so he waited patiently to see if there would be a reply that needed to be returned to Prince Balardoron.

Thranduil, despite his anger, was not discourteous enough to just ignore the elf, who had ridden practically nonstop, to bring the message. The elf had served him in this capacity for many years. Thranduil turned to Elrond, who had been standing near the doorway and discreetly observing the situation. “I wish for Cúran to eat and then find rest with my guard.”

“Of course. Greetings, Cúran.“ Elrond had been the recipient of the courier’s deliveries many times. The elf lord noticed that the servant, who had evidently led the messenger up to Legolas’s room, was himself waiting down the hall, in case he was needed. He came forward quickly, when Elrond motioned for him, and then instructed, “Take Cúran to the dining hall for some refreshment and then take him to where the other Mirkwood elves are housed.”

The servant nodded. It wasn’t the first time he had been required to see to the comfort of a courier, who had arrived in Rivendell.

Thranduil looked at Cúran. “I will send word to you, when I have decided what I will do.”

Cúran, who had known Legolas since the prince was a small elfling, couldn’t leave without asking, “My lord, how fares Prince Legolas?” There was deep concern in his gray eyes.

Thranduil, despite his recent reaction to the news he had just received, smiled. “He is recovering.”

“That is good news, my lord.” With his own smile firmly in place, Cúran bowed to his king before turning to Elrond’s servant. The two then headed down the hallway.

Elrond saw that Thranduil was plainly distraught, a frown having quickly replaced the smile on the royal wood elf‘s face. Not wanting to intrude on something that may be private, he hesitated a moment before deciding that the king may have need of someone to confide in, if nothing else, “Is there anything I can do?”

For a moment it looked as if Thranduil was too lost in his thoughts to answer. But, slowly he turned to look at the Rivendell elf. Visibly forcing his distress down to a manageable level, he said, “It is a message from Balardoron.” He didn’t continue with the explanation.

“Bad news,” Elrond stated rather than asked, coming to the only conclusion he could.

Thranduil nodded. “There is a crisis in Greenwood that demands my immediate attention.” Thranduil didn’t even notice that he had used the old name for his woodland realm. Middle-earth now knew that great forest as Mirkwood, so he usually called it by that name, but it was never a totally comfortable thing for him to do. “I do not want to leave Legolas until he is well, but I cannot ignore what is happening in my kingdom. It could escalate into a dangerous situation.”

“Can you tell me what the trouble is?” Elrond asked.

The woodland king sighed. “A man from Lake-town has been killed, and one of my people has been accused of the responsibility for his death. The problem lies in the fact that the man was killed just inside our borders, and a delegation from Lake-town is at my palace this very moment, demanding my presence to handle the situation.” He paused, sighing again.

“It has already been almost a week since the man‘s death, so even if I left right now more days will be added, and who knows what may happen before I arrive. Balardoron is smart and well-trained in being a leader. I know he can handle those volatile humans, but...” his voice trailed off, as his mind continued to contemplate the events that were taking place in his absence.

“The men want only you, the king himself, to address their concerns,” Elrond guessed.

“Yes.“ Thranduil looked toward Legolas’s open door. He saw that his son was engaged in a conversation with Aragorn and the twins. Glorfindel had left earlier to attend to several errands. “How can I tell Legolas about the trouble without worrying him, which he does not need? He will be troubled and will insist on going home with me. He is not ready to travel.”

Thranduil shook his head. “I must be truthful with my son. Though I would wish to keep ill news from upsetting him until he is recovered, I learned my lesson about trying to keep a secret from him.” He thought back with dismay to the reaction Legolas had had regarding the truth about his mother’s death. That was not going to happen again. “He does not need to be upset while he is trying to mend. Yet, I cannot keep this from him, especially since it is obviously something important enough to send me back home.”

Elrond nodded. “I agree you must be honest. Thranduil, I know you are torn about leaving. But, you are well aware that Legolas will be in good hands here. By the time the matter is settled in your kingdom, Legolas will be much recovered, if not fully so.”

“I do not doubt that,” Thranduil said honestly. “I only wish to stay with him until he recovers enough for me to take him home.”

Elrond merely nodded.

The elf king was not one to stall once he had made up his mind to do something. Now, that the decision had been made to return home, he went straight into Legolas’s room and sat down on the edge of his son’s bed.

Legolas saw immediately that something had happened. “What...is...w...wrong, Ada?”

“Cúran has arrived with a message from home. A problem has arisen there.”

Legolas’s heart skipped a beat, not sure what could have happened but fearing that it may be bad news involving one of his family members. With his heart in his throat, he asked, “What...has...happ...ened?” Legolas was still frustrated with his mode of speaking, but it was so much better than before Elrond had given him the antidote that he was trying very hard not to let it get to him. His annoyance was pushed aside, as his fears mounted.

Seeing the look of alarm on Legolas‘s face, Thranduil hastily said, “A man from Lake-town, who was trespassing on our land, was killed---and not by an animal. An angry delegation of men arrived at the palace making demands that I deal with the situation myself. I trust your brother to handle the problem in my stead, but the humans do not. I must go, ion nin. I am sorry.”

Legolas let out a big sigh of relief that his fears were unfounded. However, he frowned at the news of the crisis developing back in Mirkwood. He also believed that his oldest brother could well handle the problem, but he knew how insistent humans could be, when they felt they were not being given the proper respect. And, in this case, that meant being dealt with by someone they considered an underling, Crown Prince though he may be, rather than by the real ruler of the realm.

It was obvious that Thranduil was reluctant to leave and feeling guilty about having to do so. Legolas didn’t want to stress him any further by plaguing him with questions, particularly since Legolas wasn’t sure how detailed the message had been, yet he knew he couldn‘t rest until he knew all that his father did. “Do the...men...th...think one...of our...p...people...did it?”

“I am afraid so,” Thranduil answered without hesitation. “It is a forester, who lives in the far northwest corner of the wood. I do not believe you know him. He rarely leaves that area. I have no details on what the two sides say happened. I must go and find that out and try to sort through it all without allowing the problem to escalate further.”

Legolas nodded. “You...h...have to go...now,” he stated, fighting hard not to sound so disappointed that it would add to his father‘s unhappiness at having to leave.

“Yes, ion nin. I must leave as soon as the Royal Guard is ready. It will not take them long.”

Legolas was aware that when the king wanted to depart from wherever he was, it took very little time to get the guard ready to depart. The king moved fast, and none of them wanted to keep him waiting. They wouldn’t have lasted long as a royal escort, if they had. Ready to go at a moment’s notice was what they lived by.

The Royal Guard consisted of twenty highly trained warriors, whose sole purpose was to protect members of the royal family. Thranduil had brought five of them with him to Rivendell. “I will leave three of the guard to stay until you have recovered enough to come home.”

Legolas shook his head. “I...will come...with...y...you.”

“No, Legolas. You are not well enough to travel. Your body needs rest to mend properly.” As Legolas opened his mouth to stubbornly protest, Thranduil continued. “I will brook no argument in this, Little One.” He used that particular name just then to reinforce the fact that he was the father, and his word was final, no matter what age his son may be. “I will leave three guards for your escort,” Thranduil said again.

“No, Ada. You...are the...k..king. You...can...not...go back,,,w...with only...two...guards. It is...too...d...danger...ous.” On this point Legolas was determined to argue.

“Lord Thranduil, my brothers and I will accompany Legolas back to Mirkwood when he is ready to go,” Aragorn said, smiling at his friend. He glanced at the twins, since he had just volunteered them to go on that journey.

They both nodded their agreement. “Certainly we will,” Elrohir confirmed aloud.

“Thank you,” was all Thranduil said, but the gratitude shining in his eyes said far more than those two words could impart.

Elrond said, “I will instruct one of my servants to pack your things, Thranduil. I will also have your guard and Cúran notified that you will be ready in...“ He raised his eyebrows in question.

“Half an hour. It will not take close to that long to be ready, but I wish to spend a few more moments with Legolas before I have to leave.”

“Of course.” The Lord of Rivendell said, as he motioned for his own sons to exit the room, leaving the two wood elves alone.

Thranduil smiled at Legolas. “You will be well soon, ion nin, and able to return to your home and family. I have no doubts regarding your recovery.”

“I will...try...hard, Ada. You...will not be...dis...appoin...ted...in me.”

“I never have been, Legolas. Eru has seen to it that I have been blessed with five children, who have all made me very proud.” A touch of mist entered the elf king’s eyes, as he remembered the letter Legolas had left for him with the reference to the young elf‘s desire to please his father.

Father and son continued to talk until, with reluctance, Thranduil sighed and said, “I fear a half hour has almost passed. I should leave now, but there is one thing that I must say to you before I go.” Thranduil hesitated, then said, “I want to apologize to you for giving up hope that you would survive Mordraug.”

Legolas was surprised by his father‘s words. “Ada, you...had seen what...that evil...elf did. You saw...Naneth...” here Legolas hesitated. It was not due to his halting speech but to the burning ache in his heart. With an effort he continued. “and...all...th...those other...elves...die. I... be...lieved I...would die. How could...you...th...think...any...d...diff...erent...ly?”

“It is one thing to lose hope in one’s own survival. It is something else again to lose hope in one’s child.”

“Do...not...blame your...self. Please, Ada. It...is...p...past. I did...survive. I amm...here.”

Thranduil could find no words to reply. His own heart was too full of love and joy that his son was here. He didn’t know how long it would take him to get over his feeling of self-recrimination, but right then, it mattered little. He leaned down and hugged Legolas tightly. The younger elf returned the embrace, and the two sat and held each other for several more moments before the king pulled back. “I will see you soon, ion nin. Do not worry about what is happening at home. It will be resolved soon.”

Knowing his father well, Legolas said, “I...have...no d...doubt. Let me...know...the out...come.”

Thranduil nodded. “I will send Cúran with word of the satisfactory resolution that I am sure will be forthcoming. Send a message to me before you leave Rivendell. I would know when to expect you home.”

“I will.”

Thranduil kissed Legolas’s forehead, as was his custom, and turned to go. He did not look back, knowing a stab of pain would surely enter his heart, if he had to see Legolas left in his bed, as he himself departed without him.

Five minutes later, the king, Cúran and the Mirkwood Royal Guard were riding down the road toward the pass that would take them over the mountains to their woodland home.

Back in his room, Legolas sighed. It had been good to have Thranduil with him during the worst ordeal of his life. He already missed the strong, comforting arms and encouraging words of his father.

The young archer had understood Thranduil’s need to safeguard Mirkwood during his encounter with Mordraug. Answering this call to handle the current crisis was all part of the need to protect, because Mirkwood was more than just the forest. It was also the elves that lived within its borders. Protecting one protected the other.

Legolas leaned back against his pillows. He looked around the room, taking note that no one else was there. It was the first time since Aragorn had found him in the valley forest, that he had been alone. That situation didn’t take long to change.

A soft knock on the door sounded. Legolas came close to pretending that he was asleep, just so whoever it was would leave, and be could be by himself for a while. However, he knew the knock belonged to either Elrond or his friends, and he did not want to try and fool them. They had done far too much for him. They had saved his life. Tired though he was, he would spend time with whomever was at the door.

“Come...in,” he called, not happy at the weakness he heard in his voice. He was no healer, but common sense told him that such an occurrence was completely to be expected, especially since it had not been long ago that he had taken the antidote. Time, Lord Elrond had told him. He had to be patient. Still, the condition of his speech did not sit well with him, as no weakness, or perceived weakness, ever did.

Legolas was not surprised in the least, to see Aragorn enter the room and close the door. “Do you feel like company, or would you prefer to be alone?”

Legolas smiled. “I amm...sur..prised...you would...allow...me to be...all...by...my...self.”

Aragorn grimaced. “Are you implying that I am a hovering mother hen?”

“It would...not...be...the first...t...time, w...would it?”

“No,” the man admitted, as he sat down in one of the chairs that had been placed next to the bed. “I guess not.” Changing the subject, Aragorn said, “I’m sorry your father had to leave. I hope all will be well in Mirkwood. I wish the whole matter could be settled before he arrives there, but that didn’t sound like what was going to happen.”

“I...just hope that...no...one...else...gets...h...hurt.” Legolas closed his eyes. His manner of speaking was becoming an unpleasant annoyance, no matter how much he understood its origins or what it would take to overcome.

Aragorn misunderstood the look on Legolas’s face, thinking his words had revealed the source of his upset. “Do not worry, Legolas. Balardoron will hold things together until Thranduil can reach Mirkwood. And then, your father’s force of will alone will probably solve the problem, especially if none of those men have ever dealt with him before.”

Legolas couldn’t help but laugh at that. It was so easy to believe that might be the case. His father was an imposing figure, both physically, and far more importantly, in his force of will, as Aragorn had just pointed out. More than once, Legolas had seen people---and not just humans---wilt under Thranduil’s intense gaze and stern tone of voice. Most dared not cross him, and that included some in the king’s own household.

As for himself, Legolas did not fear his father. However, he was not foolhardy and consequently was wary of Thranduil’s more volatile moods, whenever they arose. In all but the most unavoidable circumstances, Legolas simply stayed out of his father’s way, during those times. He couldn’t help thinking that the men of Lake-town would be in for a rough time for demanding the king’s presence. He never took kindly to demands, particularly from humans, and he would have several days of travel to allow his ire to rise accordingly. Legolas actually found himself feeling sorry for those men. “By...the time my...f...father reaches...Mirk...wood, he...will...be...fur...furious.”

“I feel sorry for whoever has to face him.”

‘My...th...thought...exactly.”

A silence fell between the friends. In their early years adventuring together, Aragorn had felt the need to be constantly talking, thinking if he let the conversation die out, Legolas would think him a dull, unsuitable companion, who was unable to hold up his end of a discussion. It had taken Legolas saying, “Estel, can you just hush for a while? I would like a moment to think in peace.” Legolas had spoken gently, but the ranger had been embarrassed and had said not a word for almost a full day. Once they had talked the situation through, Estel had realized that not talking and simply being together could be as pleasurable a way to spend time with each other as was exchanging thoughts or relaying tales.

Now, Aragorn looked at Legolas and realized that his friend was very tired. “You need your rest, Legolas. Try to get some sleep.” He then settled back into the chair.

“No.”

Aragorn sat up straight. “What do you mean, no? You’re exhausted.”

Legolas shook his head. “Not me. You...h...have...to go to...your own...r...room.”

“I’m quite comfortable here.” Aragorn was about to get an argument, he could tell.

“No, Estel. You...need to...s...sleep in your...own...bed...for a change. I will...be...fine alone. I ammm...not...in any...danger.” Before Aragorn could continue with his protests, Legolas said, “Please, you...m...must go.” The elf’s soft voice took out any sting that may have been assumed by the words themselves, as they urged the human to leave.

The ranger stood up, realizing that the elf was not only concerned for his friend’s comfort but that he most likely wanted some solitude, something that he had not been able to have in a long time. Judging by the weariness on the elf’s face, Legolas would be asleep too soon to enjoy that solitude. However, Aragorn would grant him his wish. Legolas didn’t need to be agitated by any further argument. He needed sleep.

“Thank...you, Estel. I...did...not want to...have to throw...a...temper tan...tantrum.” He smiled innocently.

If Legolas had only known what lay ahead, he most certainly would not have made that statement.

TBC