Chapter 8 – All is best, though we oft doubt …

“You really have to stop this.”

Legolas looked up from the plate of food in front of him. “I do not know what you mean.”

“This is the third day in a row that Rhinure has excused herself from lunch with us. I have the feeling she would avoid dinners too if they were not public.”

“Then possibly you should speak to Rhinure since it is she who is avoiding us.”

Thranduil sighed, putting down his fork. He had hoped for a relaxed family meal with his son and daughter-in-law but it seemed as if private hopes arose only to be dashed. Though his relationship with Rhinure had improved tremendously over the last few days, Legolas and Rhinure’s had worsened. Thranduil was no longer certain if either was even making an effort to see their problems, let alone resolve them. “You honestly expect me to believe that your recent behaviour is not avoidance?”

“I am not asking you to believe anything except what I am telling you,” Legolas said again.

“And what are you telling me exactly?”

“That Rhinure is avoiding me.”

“And you of course, are trying your hardest to ensure that you relationship does not deteriorate into a series of polite, facile conversations about the weather and the state of the food crop.”

Legolas laughed bitterly, so much so that Thranduil felt his heart skip a beat. “I doubt that the few words we have exchanged recently can be called conversation by any except the greatest of fools.”

“And what are you doing about that?”

“Nothing,” said Legolas flatly.

“Legolas …”

“Adar, I do not wish to discuss this.”

“I clearly remember asking you to remedy this situation.”

“And I did, my Lord. I did exactly what you commanded. I made sure that the Prince and Princess appear to share complete harmony and accord. Surely you cannot fault either of us on that?”

“No, I cannot.”

“Then I have obeyed, as I always do.”

“But, about you marriage …”

“My marriage, last I checked, still remains my concern, your Majesty. Unless you would like to issue an edict on that as well?”

“Enough. You presume too much when you take that tone with me. Do not consider my love for you as a blanket for insolence.”

Blue eyes clashed furiously with green, as Legolas mastered his urge to strike out at something, anything, to hurt someone as much as he hurt. He could do it; he could hurt Thranduil immensely with a few words – clean and brutal. But, as usual his love for his father won out over his pettiness.

“I am sorry, Ada.” Legolas looked away, not wanting Thranduil to see his shame or his hurt.

“Legolas, this situation cannot continue like this. One or both of you is going to collapse.”

“Ada, I will not run after her again. If she does not care, then neither will I. I am tired of this chase and, besides, I have better things to occupy my time.”

“Unfortunately, child, I neither believe you nor think that you believe yourself.”

“Fortunately, it does not matter either way. It is not as if Rhinure and I have much time to spare for the other. You spend more time with her than I,” Legolas added in a slightly accusing tone.

Thranduil remained silent, knowing that what Legolas said was true. After their little altercation, Rhinure had made an effort to improve her relationship with the King, knowing its necessity in ensuring the smooth working of the Alliance. It would have been ideal if the Crown Prince would have been there as well, but Thranduil did not think that either could handle such prolonged time together. When Legolas and Rhinure met there was this bruised expression in their eyes, as if a wound has become infected and neither wanted to take the step to cauterise it. They managed very successfully in fooling others around them but Thranduil could see the pain that floating around them.

He knew his son – and Legolas wanted nothing more than to hold Rhinure and cry his hurt out, but knew that she would never accept that. And he was getting to know Rhinure as well and could see that every time Legolas backed off, Rhinure’s fragile heart took another beating, causing her to retreat even further behind the permafrost surrounding her emotions, ensuring that she would never make the first step towards reconciliation.

What was left was a mess of pain and misunderstanding that almost caused Thranduil to despair.

“And what of your right?” Thranduil asked finally.

Legolas flushed and then paled again, giving Thranduil all the answer he needed.

“Perhaps we should speak of something else, Adar?” Legolas pleaded tiredly.

“Legolas, nothing is ever solved by avoiding the issue.”

“I do not know. It has worked for me well enough before.” Legolas pushed his plate aside, having hardly touched his food. “At least this way I way I am allowed my ignorant bliss for a time, brief though it may be, instead of being in pain and disillusionment forever.”

Thranduil frowned, not understanding what Legolas was referring to. Legolas, who was watching the King very carefully, started to speak before Thranduil could ask. “Were you ever going to tell me about the Avari?”

Thranduil blinked at the change in topic, not sure what Legolas was asking. “I told you about the Avari.”

“You told me I had to marry Rhinure – a maid who brought an alliance with her. The fact that she was Avari was incidental. Even if she had not been Moriquendi you would have commanded the marriage. Yes?”

“Perhaps. But you make it sound much worse than it was.”

“Somehow I remember it as being exactly so.”

“I knew Rhinure. I thought, and still do, that you would be good together.”

Legolas swallowed, keeping his voice steady with considerable effort. “Then I can only commend your choice, my King. How long have you known that we were … compatible? Or did that thought occur after the alliance was formed?”

“I would not do that to you. If I honestly believed that she would make you unhappy I would have found another way.”

Legolas sighed, getting up from the table. “Adar, I am not happy.”

“I am sorry.”

“Would you have changed your mind if you knew she and I would end up like this?” Legolas did not look at Thranduil, afraid of the answer – afraid that he would say no and even more afraid that he would say yes.

“You and Rhinure have not ‘ended’. You are just starting.”

Legolas kept his gaze on the trees outside. “That is not an answer.”

“I did what was best.”

“For whom?” Legolas asked softly.

Thranduil sucked in a harsh breath, not knowing where such audacious words came from. Legolas had never questioned him so. They had fought but always, in the end, Thranduil’s word and judgement held sway. “For everyone – for you – and her.”

Legolas glanced at Thranduil, disbelief so clearly etched in his face that Thranduil stiffened. “You do not believe me.”

“Forgive me, Adar, but I have doubts given your history.”

Thranduil almost exploded, rage building and mixing with the pain of this conversation, but somehow he managed to keep his temper reigned. “I have never given you cause to doubt my judgement.”

“You have never given me cause to doubt your commitment to our people, my Lord,” corrected Legolas, sounding almost shattered.

“But …”

“You have hidden things from me, important things – such as the existence of the Avari, our agreement with them, which I still do not know how it exactly works, the need for an alliance – the very woman you wanted me to take for a wife. So perhaps you will forgive me for my disbelief?”

“I did what needed to be done. The Avari are secretive and I respected that need as I would any ally’s request.”

“You did what was best for our people,” Legolas agreed.

“So you understand,” said Thranduil in relief. “The Avari only agreed to spy and fight for us if we left them completely alone and keep their existence a secret. And the best way to keep a secret is to tell no one, you must agree.”

“I do – but why did agree to such terms? Would it not have been easier to let them settle here?” When Thranduil did not answer, Legolas turned to look at the older elf. “You did not want them in the Kingdom.” It was not a question.

“I was young – just made King,” Thranduil defended. “And …”

“They were Moriquendi – dark elves just appeared out of darkness and legend.”

Thranduil nodded, “I kept them away until they proved themselves.”

“And then?”

“I asked for a representative from them.”

“Did you not ever offer to let them come and live with us?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“They did not wish to.”

“So you did not try,” said Legolas sadly. No wonder the Avari did not trust them. If after almost an Age they were still kept at arms length then no wonder they viewed the marriage offer with suspicion. Though … if what Arandur said was true, they also acknowledged a great debt to Thranduil. A debt for which they were willing to sacrifice Rhinure to, a debt repaid in blood.

“So now do you believe me?”

“About what?” asked Legolas, confused.

“That I did what was best.”

“For the Silvan elves – yes – always. You are the King – a great King. But,” Legolas bent his head forward so his hair would shield his face from Thranduil. “You lied to me for their sake, you will keep me in the dark for them if need be – I know this, I have known this all my life. In some ways I have always taken great pride in your dedication, that I had a father who thought of more than just his family. For me it was always normal that the King would always take precedence of Ada, that the Prince would always take priority over my personal desired. But only now am I truly understanding what it means. If the need arose, you would sacrifice me, as that Avari have done Rhinure, which leads me to wonder if it is not better that I settle for polite conversation than for something deeper?”

“Legolas.” Thranduil turned Legolas to face him, clutching at his shoulders when Legolas tried to move. “I know you hurt, but believe me when I say that this marriage can work if you try. You can build what you yearn for; it will be difficult but not impossible. I know this unequivocally – I believe this beyond any shade of doubt.”

“I want to believe you, Ada, I do. But I do not know how.”

“Ion nín. Everything will be alright.” Thranduil hugged Legolas fiercely, willing this pain to leave his son and come into him. For a moment, Legolas relaxed and returned the embrace. For a moment, he was safe and nothing could harm him.

A cough interrupted them. A worried Herenion looked at the pair. “It is getting late, my King. The council awaits in your audience chamber.”

Legolas pushed Thranduil slightly. “Go – you are needed.”

“I will be back, ion nin. I will make you believe me.”

Legolas smiled bravely. “You always win, my Lord. I will pray it will be so again. Until later, your Majesty.” Legolas bowed to the King and with Thranduil’s permission, withdrew to his chambers to prepare for his own duties. Patrols would be leaving soon and he needed to look over his plans. There was much to do.

Thranduil watched Legolas leave, noting the weary but determined tread, thinking of how old his baby head become.

“What was that about?”

Thranduil sighed but did not answer Herenion’s impatient question, instead walking towards the side table where he had placed his circlet during lunch. Such a heavy burden, this circle of leaves, he mused, holding the Wood-elf crown in his hands.

“What did you do to Legolas?” Herenion demanded.

Thranduil stiffened, but kept his temper, frayed through it was after the conversation with Legolas. “It is not your concern, Herenion. Leave it be – it is between my son and I.”

“If it impacts Legolas, it is my concern. I will protect him.”

Thranduil glanced at the old elf as he straightened his tunic and slipped on the robes of State. “Even from me?”

Herenion considered for the slimmest of moment before plunging on. “Yes.”

“Good.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

“No.”

“It was about the Princess.”

“Perhaps.”

“Legolas was upset about the time you spend with her.”

“Partly.”

“He realised that this new ploy to entrap her will just cause more problems between them and eventually between the Avari and us.”

Thranduil looked up at Herenion’s words registered. “What are you talking about?”

“My Lord, I know that the Wood-elves are paramount to you but what you do with Princess is wrong.”

Only centuries of service allowed Herenion to speak with such impertinence without Thranduil losing his famous temper. But perhaps Herenion was being wilfully provocative. Thranduil took a deep breath and calmed himself – somewhat – before asking a little wryly. “And what if what I do is necessary?”

Herenion squared his shoulders and said bravely. “Then you would be wrong and Legolas should be informed as such.”

Thranduil turned to face the older elf, folding his hands to prevent them from fisting. “You question my judgement?”

“I question anything that causes such pain and which can only increase the suspicion and mistrust surrounding us.”

“Sometimes pain is necessarily to cauterise a wound, Herenion.”

“Lying never helps, child and you know this,” said Herenion gravely, dropping the smile from his face and the enthusiasm from his demeanour. Suddenly he seemed old – and tired.

“I have not been a child for a while, Herenion and you would do well to remember that.”

“You will always be a child to me, Thranduil.”

“Perhaps in age but not in experience. I have had to do things you would not and could never do. I have had to face Fate and Circumstance and fight its evil with Will alone. That is why I am King – for I will do what others will ignore to keep their consciences clean.” Thranduil’s voice thundered and even Herenion had to fall silent. “My judgement rules, Herenion” Thranduil’s gaze locked with Herenion, and finally, the brown eyes fell away in embarrassment and shame.

“As my Lord commands.”

Thranduil placed the crown on his head. “And Herenion, remember this, you may disagree with me, but you will obey. If you say one word to Legolas – one word about your suspicions or questioning of motives, one whisper that threatens his marriage, even indirectly, I will place you so far from him that even Manwë will not be able to reunite you.”

“You will have me forsworn?” asked Herenion fearfully, knowing that this was no idle threat. He had not seen Thranduil this angry in a while. He had played his hand badly, he now realised. He should have coaxed Thranduil instead of trying to force his hand. Thranduil was not a child, that much was true, and he could not be ordered any longer. But Herenion had been worried, about his family, about the oath he had sworn to Oropher to protect them, but most of all about the trouble he knew was coming but could not prevent. He could feel it in his bones, like water beginning to boil, but he could not do anything about it. Wherever he turned, everyone seemed to be stoking the fire instead of dousing it.

“I will not have a disloyal elf near my son.”

“I have never been disloyal to you!” said Herenion, stung that Thranduil would even suggest something like that.

“If you overrule my judgement, about my son, about my Prince and his Princess and above all about how best to serve and protect my people, then you are not only being disloyal, you are being treasonous.”

“My Lord … I …”

“Enough, Herenion. I have wasted enough time on this. I have heard your concerns before and I have allowed you to have your say, but that does not mean that you may do anything with impunity.”

“My Lord, I will obey …”

“But …”

“You do wrong. I have not your subtlety or even your courage but I can feel that this is wrong. You must stop.”

“I cannot, Herenion.” Thranduil walked to the door and added quietly, “Protect my son.”

“Always.”

And the King exited.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“You are quiet tonight, my Lord.”

Thranduil looked up from the map in the front of him. “It has been a long day, child.”

“Is there anything I can do to help, my Lord.”

Thranduil smiled and leaned back in his chair, looking over Rhinure seated across from him. It surprised him how easily he could read the concern on her face. She covered it well enough, but he was learning the small signs, the gestures, the tilt of her head which gave away her heart. It was like learning a whole new language, where they used one word, the Avari a wholly different one. The intent was the same, just with a different packaging. But he was learning.

“My Lord?” Rhinure wondered why Thranduil looked so pensive. It was always he who carried their conversations, throwing in personal anecdotes or homilies which, she now realised, she missed in this sombre atmosphere. She looked forward to those little asides, especially when they concerned Legolas. But even when they were about some insight or judgement that Thranduil had made, Rhinure listened avidly, learning, by his knees as it were. It was almost like being a child again. There was such charm in not being a leader too. It was, just almost, like having Morion back again - Morion back before he married that woman – back all to herself.

“It is nothing. As I said, it has been a long day.”

“Would you like to retire?”

Thranduil looked at the piles of paper in front of him, the patrolling schedules that needed to be chalked between Rhinure and himself. He knew that Rhinure wanted to discuss a supply sharing agreement, but that would require a lot of rearranging of stores and spares. And there was not much time before she and Legolas left for Gondor. “No there is much to be done.”

“Yes, there is.” Rhinure paused before asking casually, “Is the Prince going to join us?”

Thranduil suppressed a smile, though a bittersweet one. “I think not.”

Rhinure’s mouth pursued and back straightened, which Thranduil knew, was her way of protecting against regret. The back just straightened a little and not completely, which would have been a sign of anger. “Things would get done faster if he leant a hand.”

“Perhaps,” said Thranduil noncommittally. Privately, he though nothing would get done if Legolas was with them. Both the young, silly elves were so distracted in each other’s company, yearning to be together but insisting on keeping their distance, that nothing ever got done.

Rhinure glanced at the door before turning to the map. Her way of hoping that Legolas would just turn up so that she could either just see him or scream at him – Thranduil could not be sure. Either way she wanted him to be near.

“Shall we get back to work?” Thranduil looked at the dark head bent over the table and wondered when Legolas would get the opportunity to learn these things about his wife.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas stepped on to the balcony, taking a deep breath of the cool evening air carrying a hint of dew and sapling. The morning patrols had been particularly difficult, given his fatigue and distraction. He had been fortunate that the patrols had been uneventful, for he had not been at his best. But the new recruits had performed admirably well, giving their all to their Prince. He was pleased at their diligence. They would make a fine addition to the Home Guard and Legolas would rest a little easier while he was away in Gondor.

Gondor …

Legolas smiled at the thought of his friends. He would be amongst them soon. Some of the tension left his shoulders and the tight band around his temple eased a little. Despite the recent trouble and stress in his life he was looking forward to the trip. At least his mortal friends did not expect the impossible from him. They welcomed the elf, the person, without caring about what the Prince could do for them.

Legolas sighed, kneading his shoulders, all the while wondering if the Prince could be separated from the elf and still leave the core that was Legolas intact. Perhaps the mortal loved just a part of him without seeing the whole?

Though, where would that leave Arwen? Legolas smiled once more. He had never been close to the children of Elrond, space and time prevented that, but he could not say that they did not know him or that he was just a Prince with grave duties. If so, then was not Arwen’s pleasure just that – unalloyed joy in the presence of friend? Arwen would of course tell him that he was thinking too much. Whatever the reason, Legolas was welcomed and he should learn to accept it with as much graciousness as it was offered, instead of finding fault.

The elleth – though she was not one any longer, Legolas supposed wickedly – had always acted older than she was, presuming to lecture him whenever the infrequent opportunity arose. Legolas could not wait to see what she would do to Rhinure.

Legolas smiled, he could not wait to see how Rhinure would be welcomed – for welcomed she would be, he was sure of it. Faramir and Gimli’s visit has been too brief to make a definitive judgement so Legolas was looking forward to seeing her interact with the Second Born. And she had to meet the Hobbits! Their innocence and resilience would soothe her has it did him. Though no children, their enthusiasm for life was almost childlike to the Elves with their immortal lives. They would bring a much needed smile to Rhinure’s face.

Legolas wondered down to the gardens, allowing his mind to think of Rhinure, not denying himself any longer. It was painful not to have her near but not to think of her was unbearable. He missed her and the journey to Gondor would be the perfect opportunity for them to spend sometime together, but Legolas was not sure if the trip would be anything more than prolonged misery. He often wondered what he could do to repair the rift between them. But, to be brutally honest with himself, he was not even sure if there was anything worth repairing.

Legolas sighed, rotating his stiff shoulders slightly. He had just managed to work a little of the kinks out when an annoyed voice broke the blissful silence, causing Legolas’ shoulders to stiffen right back.

“I have been looking for you, Prince.”

“It seems as if you have found me, Commander.” Legolas turned to face Cothion, anger glaring at the mere sight of the other elf.

Cothion, too, stiffened at the patent unwelcome in the Sindar elf’s face. Though he had never though much of the Prince, considering him a dangerous but necessary expedient, the hostility was tantamount to a slap on the face to the reserved Avari. “I have been looking for you,” he tried again, with what he thought, was a great deal of equanimity. The Prince needed to understand certain things, needed to see that he could not keep hurting the Sacrifice with impunity. Though without parents or family, she was no orphan to be taken advantage of. She had an entire Clan behind her and Legolas needed to understand that. Whenever he insulted her, he insulted them all, and Cothion would never allow that.

“You already said as much,” Legolas responded calmly, folding his arms behind his back, nails digging into his palm. The pain helped keep his composure and not use his hands for beneficial uses – like wringing necks.

Cothion flushed at the lapse, hands fisting on the pommel of his sword. The cool metal of his Blade pushed down the rage beginning to boil – and he had barely spoken to the Prince. “I wish to speak to you.”

“About what?”

“About Mistress Rhinure.”

The sound of her name, buffeted though it was by the honorific, hurt Legolas. That Cothion spoke it, the cause of all his problems, enraged him. “I cannot imagine that you and I could have anything to speak about concerning her.”

“Then you have a most limited imagination.”

“Speak then, Commander,” Legolas allowed regally. “I have little time, as you will be well aware of, but for my wife I can spare you a few moments.”

Cothion flushed at the condescension, not being particularly used to such behaviour. No Avari would speak such, especially to his betters. Nonetheless, he would persevere.

“I am waiting, Commander.” Legolas delighted in needling the Commander, paying him back for the trouble he had caused in a small, but satisfying way.

“I know what you are doing to Mistress.”

Legolas turned to face Cothion squarely. “And what am I doing?”

“You are trying to confuse her and make her forget her duty to the Clan.” Cothion went straight for the jugular.

“Brave words, Commander. Do you have any proof of such accusations or are you just indulging in slander?” countered Legolas smoothly, all Woodland Prince.

“I have eyes, your Highness, I have seen the way you treat her. How you try and monopolise her, try to keep her away from her people. And when you do not succeed, how you insult and hurt her.”

“Even if you had the right to speak to me in such a manner, what makes you think I will discuss my marriage with you?” Legolas struggled to keep calm, and not allow any doubts about the veracity of Cothion’s words to shade his voice. “What Rhinure and I share, how I treat her, is not your concern,.”

“She is our Sacrifice – how you treat her is our concern – it is my concern.”

Legolas bridled at the possessiveness in Cothion’s voice. “She is my wife.”

“That does not stop her from being our leader. You would do well to remember that.”

“Is that a threat, Commander?”

“That is a reminder. Nothing more … and nothing less.”

Legolas’ eyes burned and he stepped forward to match Cothion’s threats with an unspoken one of his own. How dare this upstart of an elf presume to lecture him about his behaviour towards Rhinure? What of her behaviour towards him? “You are hardly in a position to talk, Commander, when it is you who monopolise my wife’s time. I hardly spend any time with her and when I do manage you are always around, like a burr stuck to wool. Perhaps I should accuse you of keeping a wife away from her husband.” Cothion’s face hardened in warning, but Legolas was beyond such subtlety. “Does that not violate more of your precious oaths than what I am supposedly trying to do?”

“Are you accusing me of having no Honour, Prince?” Cothion demanded heatedly, feeling control slip away from him but having no will to stop himself.

“I am not accusing you of anything, Avari. I have eyes too, and I am just calling what I see. And what I see is my wife spending time playing Sacrifice and ignoring her Bonded.”

“Not only do you attack my Honour, you presume to attack Rhinure too. You shame the title of Bonded.”

“Those are fighting words, Commander.” Legolas shifted into fighting stance.

“Are you challenging me, Prince?”

“I believe you insulted me first, Commander. I am just redressing that insult.”

“I will not fight you.”

“Why not, Commander? You are brave enough bandying words but not when it comes to backing them with action?”

Cothion hesitated, struggling to control himself. This was not what he wanted. He just wanted Legolas to treat Mistress with the respect that was her due. He wanted him to know that she would be protected if he continued to threaten her. That Legolas would have to face him before he could harm Rhinure – and through her – the entire Clan. What better time to teach the little Prince a lesson than now? What better time than to show the strength the Avari carried?

“Afraid, Avari?”

“Vigilant only, Prince.”

“You should be, Avari. For I promise you, if you think I am monopolising Rhinure now, you will not like what I will do henceforth,” Legolas taunted. “I will make sure that she has not time for your precious Avari. I will use every wile, every power I have to turn her away from you and lose herself in me.”

Those words snapped Cothion’s fragile control. A red haze settled before his eyes and his emotions roiled, submerging his rational, cool Avari self. First Arandur and now his Sacrifice – these Wood-elves would not rest until they had taken everything precious away from him, until they had ripped away all his defences, leaving him bleeding and vulnerable. He had been unable to save his brother – he would not fail his Mistress – he would protect her. He would protect the Clan.

With a tormented roar, Cothion pulled out his sword and attacked.

Legolas parried adroitly, metal meeting metal in a discordant sound. He grinned savagely as Cothion charged again. He would teach this Moriquendi. He would teach him not to interfere. He would make sure that he would never be able to cause trouble for him again – and then he would have Rhinure all to himself.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

A parting Faelon burst into the King’s Chambers with scant ceremony causing both Thranduil and Rhinure to look up abruptly from the papers in front of them.

“What is the meaning of this interruption, Lieutenant?”

“My Liege,” Faelon paused to draw breath. “The Prince …”

Thranduil rose immediately in paternal response to Fealon’s tone. “What about the Prince?”

“My Lord, the Prince … and the Avari Commander …” Faelon fell silent as a strangled sound from the chair Rhinure sat in cut him off.

Thranduil glanced in silent command to the Princess. This was not the time to jump to conclusions, no matter how worrisome they seemed from Faelon’s obviously agitated manner. “Speak slowly, Lieutenant. Has something befallen the Prince and the Commander?”

Faelon took a deep breath, for courage, before blurting out, “Prince Legolas and the Commander are duelling.”

“What?”

“They are, at this very moment, fighting with each other. And …” Faelon trailed off as Thranduil’s eyes narrowed. Suddenly, telling the King no longer seemed like a good idea no matter what Herenion said.

“And?” Thranduil asked very carefully.

“And Herenion is afraid that they will hurt each other,” said Faelon in a rush, desperate to quit the chambers now.

“I thought you said it was a duel?”

“Yes, well, you could call it that.”

“What did Herenion call it?”

“A settling of scores.” Faelon bit his tongue as Thranduil drew back as it struck. He knew it would have been wiser to let the Prince beat the stuffings out of the Avari, but Herenion had insisted that he get the King. As if the fire needed more fuel …

“Take me to the Prince.”

“As my King commands.”

Thranduil strode to the door, only to pause when he realised Rhinure had not moved from her chair. “Rhinure?”

She looked up at Thranduil blankly, face done deathly pale.

“We need to leave.”

Rhinure continued to look up blankly, mind churning but not registering what Thranduil was saying. As soon as Faelon has said the Commander’s and Legolas’ names together, her vague fears had crystallised in an awful certainty, leaving her shaken. Cothion and Legolas were fighting – and she was very afraid it was her fault.

“Rhinure.”

Thranduil’s sharp tone cut through her panic.

“Come.”

And the Avari Sacrifice obeyed.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

It was no duel.

It was two frenzied elves determined to hurt the other with little regard for themselves. The sizeable crowd gasped in panic as Cothion’s blade came close to skewering Legolas, turned aside at the barest of ends with no little skill and a lot of luck.

Herenion gripped his blade, ready to intervene and end this affront to the Prince.

Legolas noted the movement. “Hold, Herenion.”

Herenion made to protest – again – before the imperious command came again to hold. “You would not interrupt our friendly sparring, now would you?”

Herenion cursed under his breath and subsided. He could not intervene now without making Legolas’ words a lie and the little brat knew that. An intervention by the Prince’s Bodyguard would be tantamount to admitting that Cothion – the Avari Heir – had attacked the Wood-elf Prince, especially as the First and Second Guards of the Avari stood by so impassively, as if Legolas slicing through Cothion’s sleeve was of no consequence.

Herenion slid over to Ehtewen. “We should stop this.”

Ehtewen looked at Herenion, asking calmly, “Why?” Herenion almost exploded before she added quickly. “It is only sport, First Guard. Is it not?”

The question was enunciated so frigidly that Herenion was aware of the number of elves listening to the two bodyguards. “Yes it is,” he bit out. “But accidents have been known to happen,” he added pointedly.

Ehtewen turned to look at the ensuing fight. Both Cothion and Legolas had given up skill and were using brute force to subdue the other. Blades clashed and both elves pushed against the other, determined not to yield any ground. The anger on Cothion’s face was frightening – all the more so since she had seen it so little.

“Accidents happen only with the unskilled.” Ehtewen turned to Herenion. “I have the utmost confidence in the Commander’s skill. If you do not in the Prince’s, then mayhap you should intervene.”

Herenion swore silently again, vowing that when this was over he would soundly thump Legolas for getting himself into this situation. And once this mess was sorted, he would personally escort Cothion out of the Forest and deposit him so far from his Prince that not even the Valar would be able to find him.

Cothion lunged for Legolas, causing the younger elf to scramble back. His fair face was flushed and Herenion could see blood seeping down his jaw from a gash on his temple.

Legolas laughed, in apparent reassurance, which set Herenion’s teeth on edge. “Merely a scratch,” Legolas assured the crowd. “The Commander got in a lucky shot.”

The Commander remained deathly silent, conserving his energy to teach this upstart elf a lesson. His arm bled where the Prince had cut him but he ignored the sting. The Avari around did not comment or inquire if he was alright. They had all seen Cothion more seriously injured and knew better than to distract him with conversation at this stage of a fight. He shifted his stance again to attack and press his advantage again.

Herenion’s eyes flashed as Cothion attacked. Forget escort, once this was over, he would personally break every little bone in the Avari’s body. His stance shifted in response and the elves around him put a little more distance between themselves and the Prince’s Bodyguard.

Where was Thranduil? Herenion wondered angrily. Only the King had the authority to stop this fiasco. However, if he did not hurry, authority be damned, he was going to intervene – Prince’s command and the alliance not withstanding.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Thranduil strode into the gardens with a silent Rhinure on his arm, hurrying as fast as he could without running. He stopped as soon as he saw Legolas’ fair head in the crowd. His robes swirled around his still figure as he looked at the scene in front of him.

Legolas and Cothion were a mess even under the most polite use of the term. They were both sweating and bleeding from numerous cuts, but neither looked sane enough to realise what a spectacle they were making. For the moment, however, both looked like they would survive this encounter.

But Thranduil would not bet about Cothion’s survival much longer if the Avari did not back off immediately. Thranduil locked gaze with Herenion and read the silent vow in those deadly eyes. It was not often that the old elf let his anger get the better of him, but a threat to Legolas would bring him close to that point.

Herenion bowed formally to the King from the clearing, sheathing the sword he did not remember drawing, in response to the King’s silent command. The king was here – he would take care of this.

His gesture made the elves finally realise that the King was amongst them. Tearing their gazes from the fighting elves they looked at their King and took a sharp collective breath when they saw the fury in Thranduil’s eyes. This was no father hurrying to his son’s defence – unneeded though it was considering Cothion’s state – this was a King in judgement. Thranduil almost shone with the power he contained under his beautiful form.

Though the crowd was desperately interested in the fight and did not want to miss even a second, the King’s presence could not be ignored. The crowd sank in formal court bows, awaiting the King’s pleasure. And the two elves continued to fight, completely oblivious to their surroundings.

Thranduil kept the crowd in their positions for longer than was strictly necessary, showing his displeasure at them for their voyeurism. The only elves who did not bow were the proud, inflexible Avari. Thranduil turned his powerful presence of them and for a commendable moment, they collectively resisted acknowledging the King but, in the end, he won, as he always did. They shifted a little closer to the First Guard who stiffly curtseyed to the King, noting with displeasure that the Sacrifice remained by his side and made no move to join the Avari.

Though, truth be told, Rhinure seemed as oblivious to the silent contest around her as the Prince and Commander were. Her eyes remained fixed on the two elves, following their movements with desperate intensity. They were both tiring and tired elves made mistakes and mistakes could be deadly.

Legolas swept Cothion’s feet from under him, causing the larger Avari to hit the ground with a sickening thump. Rhinure hissed in displeasure, worried that Cothion had broken something given the angle he had fallen. But it seemed as if he was fine.

Rhinure started breathing again as he quickly got up and circled the Prince. He was alright. He was unharmed. She was going to kill him.

And it seemed as if the Avari Commander harboured the same sentiment against the Sindar Prince, attacking the blond elf as if his life depended on it, forcing Legolas to fall back against the assault. A couple of elves scrambled back as the two duellists broke out of their prescribed circle, trampling over bushes and flowers alike.

“You have to stop them!”

Thranduil looked down at Rhinure’s ashen face. She had not moved one inch since they had spotted Legolas and looked as if she had been the one to take a beating which, Thranduil supposed, she had in a way. “Should I?”

“He is your son.”

“And he is your Heir.”

“I cannot ask Cothion to step down. It is dishonourable to ask him to back down from a duel,” Rhinure swallowed. “Once a challenge is made and accepted I cannot intervene. There is no Honour in that.”

Thranduil shook his head at the warped logic but decided to wait just a little longer to see where she leading. “And my intervention will not dishonour Legolas in like fashion?”

Rhinure turned anguished eyes only to look away quickly at the condemnation in them.

“I will take that as a yes.” Thranduil smiled a little cruelly. “You would have me dishonour my Heir because you wish to preserve your Heir’s dignity?”

“No!” Rhinure denied vehemently, briefly distracted by the accusation. “I would not do that.”

“To whom?”

“Are you going to stop them?”

“You could do it.”

“I told you …”

“You could stop Legolas. After all you are his wife and believe me when I say this, he would stop if his wife requested it of him.”

Rhinure bit her lip, considering what Thranduil said. She could ask Legolas to quit, shaming him in front of her Avari. No Bonded had ever interfered in such matter of Honour to her knowledge, but she could do it. Even Thranduil believed so.

Rhinure shook her head, trying to clear it. “I cannot.”

“Why not?” Thranduil urged, looking for something from her. He wanted this fight to stop but he needed something from her first.

*~ Just a little while longer, son. Hang on. Then I will make him pay. ~*

“I cannot do that to him.”

“You have to choose one of them.”

Rhinure shook her head in denial and took a quick step back from Thranduil. “No. I cannot.”

“You can.”

“No.”

At that instant, Cothion managed to get under the Prince’s defence, slashing his forearm. Legolas staggered back, clutching his arm.

“No.” Rhinure surged forward in panic, only to be stopped by Thranduil.

“Have you chosen?” Thranduil clamped down on her arm, preventing her from acting precipitously.

Rhinure turned panicked eyes to Thranduil. “I cannot.” Her voice almost brook as she looked at Legolas and then Cothion and then back to Legolas. “I cannot choose between them.”

“You will have to eventually,” said Thranduil, implacable in his determination.

Legolas tackled Cothion, driving the elf hard against a tree. Cothion gritted his teeth and took the blow, twisting away as Legolas lost some of his balance in the push.

“Please.” Rhinure gripped Thranduil’s arms, openly pleading.

“Choose.”

Legolas cried out in pain as Cothion punched him squarely in the gut. That one sound caused Rhinure to shatter. All barriers fell before Thranduil and he saw the young woman whose husband suffered before her very eyes. He saw the depth of feeling she had for his son, reluctant but undeniable.

“Please, my King. Please. He is hurting.” Rhinure’s nails bit into Thranduil’s arm and she looked like she was ready to cry.

Thranduil nodded, satisfied. He had the information he needed. Perhaps something could be salvaged from this silly conflict. He spun around and extended his arm. One of his guards placed the King’s sword in his outstretched fingers. As his fingers closed on the familiar pommel, Thranduil grimly saluted Arandur’s foresight in getting his sword. After centuries of service, the Captain had learnt to anticipate the King’s commands. The other Avari, too, would learn in time, Thranduil vowed.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas was tiring and he knew it would not be long before Cothion realised that fact too. The Avari, till now, had not shown any signs of letting up, fighting with an almost maniacal concentration. Once Legolas faltered Cothion would take full advantage of it, grinding him into the dust and publicly humiliating him. If Legolas did not do something quickly Cothion would have the pleasure of seeing him defeated. He would not let the Avari win. He could not let her take Rhinure from him.

With a furious roar, Legolas charged Cothion, determined to end this now. His knives thrust up, aiming for Cothion’s guts – only to be deflected easily by the King’s Sword.

Maddened, Legolas tried attacking again, only to fall back when he realised he was facing the King – Adar!

Legolas backed up cautiously, sanity returning once more, looking up to find a furious King looking at him. He could not remember the last when Thranduil had looked at him so, his breath caught at the power in those green eyes, and the disappointment.

There was only one thing Legolas could do. He immediately dropped to one knee, ignoring the pain, putting his hand on his heart in a gesture of fealty and homage. “My King.”

Thranduil’s gaze softened as he looked down at the fair head, but only slightly. “I should keep you on your knees until blood loss makes you too weak to get up.”

Legolas flinched at Thranduil’s tone, a little afraid that the King would do as he threatened. With the cool earth of the forest under his fingers, filling him with its sweet song, he now wondered what perverseness had promoted him to taunt Cothion in the first place. It has seemed like such a good idea earlier but now, under Thranduil’s scrutiny, Legolas felt nothing but shame.

“Get up, Prince, and get yourself to a healer,” the King commanded finally.

Legolas rose stiffly, gratefully accepting Herenion’s help, but noting with dismay the number of people gathered around. How could he not have seen the crowd before or how worried they all were?

Cothion stood to one side, surrounded by the Avari. He looked awful, Legolas thought with a start, wondering if he looked the same.

“I think everyone has seen enough.” Thranduil’s strong voice cut through the evening air, causing everyone to remember that they had somewhere else to be – anywhere else. With great alacrity the elves dispersed, leaving only the King, Herenion and the Prince alone with Cothion and the First and Second Guard.

And Rhinure …

Legolas’ breath caught as the crowd thinned, leaving her alone. She looked pale and hurt. And very angry, Legolas realised as their gazes locked and hers iced over. He wanted to say something but he was not sure what. And she did not look like she wanted to talk, especially across the yard.

Rhinure turned from Legolas to look at Cothion, noting his condition as well and, if anything, her anger intensified even further.

“Your majesty, do we have your permission to withdraw?” asked Ehtewen, needing to break this silent tableau and get Cothion to the Avari Healer.

Thranduil nodded and the Avari departed, with Cothion leaning slightly on Istion. Thranduil turned to Herenion and said, “Take Legolas to the Healers’ Wing.”

Herenion nodded and took Legolas’ hand, who shrugged off the help, eyes still trained on Rhinure, who had not moved even though she watched Cothion leave.

Thranduil observed the action and the motivation behind it. Legolas wanted Rhinure to come with him. He wanted his wife to choose him over Cothion. Thranduil could almost feel Legolas willing Rhinure to turn and step in his direction.

Rhinure did turn to look at Legolas but she did not move towards him. Legolas’ gaze softened slightly, beseeching almost. Rhinure bit her lip and if possible, paled even further, swaying a little. Though her barriers were up, they were weak and Thranduil could see beyond them now – she wanted to run to Legolas, though possibly to finish what Cothion started. This fight between Avari and Wood-elf was not over, it had only moved to the next level.

Thranduil was learning about Rhinure, and she never did what she personally wanted. Even though her concern for Legolas fairly screamed at him, she turned to look in Cothion’s direction. Her face hardened and the weakness left her abruptly. There was no confusion in her or how she was going to handle Cothion. She was pure adamant at the moment and Thranduil knew that she would deal with Cothion. He tried to dredge up some sympathy for the Avari for he knew that Rhinure would not be merciful – it was not in her nature – but all he felt was a deep satisfaction. His little Princess would handle the matter.

And if she did not, Cothion would deal with him, thought Thranduil darkly, allowing his paternal instincts to finally come to the fore.

Rhinure looked at Thranduil, eyes narrowed and he nodded. He would look after Legolas and she would take care of Cothion. With not even a by your leave, she swept out of the gardens, marching to where the Princess’ Company were housed.

To Cothion. Legolas sucked in a harsh breath, feeling as if Cothion’s blade had in fact, ripped his heart out, instead of just causing him to bleed. Once again, Rhinure had turned away from him.

Thranduil steadied Legolas as the latter suddenly tottered. His wounds did not seem that severe, so why the weakness? He gathered Legolas to him, unmindful of the blood and sweat on the child’s clothes, alarmed when Legolas clung to him.

“Ada, she …”

Thranduil’s heart squeezed. While he might have learnt to understand Rhinure and the fact that she would take care of things she could do something about first, Legolas still did not know his wife well enough to realise that her departure was not indicative of her preference. If anything it was exactly the opposite.

“Come, elfling. Let us get you to the Healer’s, where you and I will have a long overdue talk.”

Thranduil gently led Legolas away, noting that Rhinure’s action had wounded him more thoroughly than all of Cothion’s attacks. The Prince’s steps were weary and faltered as if all will and strength had left him and the only thing keeping him up was the King’s strong arm.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x