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.”

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“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.

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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?

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