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.

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“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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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! ~*

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