Chapter 21 – Confrontation

“Why do you hurry so, little one? The market is not going to open any sooner, no matter how quickly you get there.” Herenion admonished when Legolas increased his pace.

“I know that, but I want to get to the silver-smith before a huge queue forms,” Legolas called over a shoulder, barely missing another serving maid. Herenion did not know whether to hold his head in agony or be proud of his charge’s quicksilver reflexes. By the end of the day, he figured he would be in enough agony so he settled for pride now.

*~ The marketplace on a gather day! Ai, this Elfling is going to be the death of me. ~*

Herenion reluctantly followed his prince out of the palace. Even from the distance, he could see the crowd gathering to trade. The preparations for the wedding meant that the crowds would be especially fierce today since everyone would want something.

Herenion hated crowds, they made him uneasy. He had to watch Legolas too carefully, especially when he was in careless moods like today. *~ Maybe I should kill him myself and get it over with. ~*

“Are you coming?”

“Of course, my Prince. I would not have it otherwise.” Herenion sighed as he entered the fray.

*~ Maybe I could do it really slowly. ~*

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Sure enough, Legolas’ ‘enthusiasm’ meant that they were the first to reach the silversmith – almost two hours before the shop was supposed to open. Herenion almost strangled the Prince when he realised that they would have to wait around for so long.

“Herenion, even you must admit if we had come later we would have had to wait longer. Look, even now people line up behind us.”

“I think that has less to do with the smith and more with you, my Prince. How can your subjects resist the opportunity to see their beloved Prince? See how they come to stare at you.”

“I am sure they are here on business,” Legolas muttered, only now noticing the many eyes trained on him.

“Assuredly, that is why they are just standing there with their mouths open. And ‘they’, predominantly seem to be maidens – young ones.”

Legolas blushed because he realised that Herenion was right. By now, a sizable female crowd had gathered around him, not too close, but close enough for Legolas to catch the wistful expression on their faces. One woman audible sighed as she stared at the Prince, causing him to burn a deeper shade of crimson, if that was possible.

“Maybe we should turn back.”

“And lose our position in the line – my Prince, how can you suggest such a thing. No, we will stay.” Herenion caught Legolas and firmly held him in place.

*~ Let him suffer a bit as well. ~*

“Anyway, you did say that you needed to see the smith urgently,” Herenion could not resist adding – effectively paralysing Legolas. He had no desire to remain and be ogled at, but he did want to speak to the smith.

Legolas sighed, he would stay – this could not wait.

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As Legolas waited, he forced himself to be calm and composed despite all the people watching him. It was a beautiful day and he would enjoy it as such. Slowly, the tension left his body and he watched the elves go about their business. He even smiled at the maids hovering nearby, much to their delight.

The market place was more crowded that usual – more so than Legolas had ever seen it. It seemed as if Thranduil was right, the common people were taking this wedding to heart. There was a lightness, a gaiety to their step which Legolas had not seen for a long time. He could see elves arguing with the sellers, haggling over the price of silk and ribbons. Her could hear the cries of the vendors selling wedding finery and gifts. It was all so delightfully normal that Legolas could not help but rejoice.

It was a grand day to be alive.

The sun shone on the pots and pans, making the bronze metal gleam like gold. Young girls flitted about the crows offering little trinkets or flowers. He could see the food sellers entice the children with their sweet smelling desserts. Legolas chuckled as he saw a little Elfling whine until his mother bought him a fresh pie. The sight of the little boy holding the huge pie, which was larger than his face, heartened Legolas. It reminded him that despite trials and heartaches life continued.

“Heru en amin, would you like to buy a flower?”             <My lord – non-familiar>

Legolas looked down at a young girl, standing there trembling before him. He had to smile – she was exquisite. Huge green eyes in a perfectly smooth, fair face. Long brown hair, the colour of fresh honey swayed gently in the breeze. Legolas was certain this maid would break many hearts when she grew up.

“And what flowers do you have, Arwenamin?” Legolas asked, ever so gently. The girl brightened at the title Legolas addressed her with.     <My Lady>

None of her friends would believe her audacity in speaking to the Prince. She was sure that they would be green with envy when she told them Prince Legolas had smiled at her.

“Every kind, my Lord. If you would like to see?” She brought her basket forward, raising it so that Legolas could see without having to bend down.

“My, yes, you do have a wonderful collection here. Did you pick them all by yourself?”

The girl nodded proudly, “I got up really early and went to the meadow in the forest. Now that spring comes the entire area is just covered with flowers.”

Legolas nodded, knowing the place the girl spoke of. It was a large meadow, not far from the palace, frequented by the city dwellers. It might have been a large public garden in the less evil times but now it was a wild meadow. It was a common enough walking spot for people, but in the Spring it became especially beautiful. Flowers grew in every available spot, forming a carpet. Legolas remembered younger days, when he was less burdened with duty, when he had walked in that meadow and thought it Valinor.

*~ It should be free – and wild. Only then is it worthy of beauty … Maybe Rhinure would like to see that field. ~*

“Which flower would you like, my Lord?”

Legolas looked at basket filled with the wild flowers, noting the colours and the smell of each. The particularly red rose caught his eyes and he lifted it from the basket, taking care not to prick himself on the thorns. For some reason, he thought the flower was perfect for Rhinure. The deep red would set well in her black hair, and maybe lend her some colour to those pale cheeks. He gently fingered the velvet petals; at least it was not black.

*~ And it is appropriate that such beauty be couple with such wicked thorns – Rhinure would appreciate the metaphor. ~*

“I think I will buy this one from you, pretty one. Would that be acceptable?”

The girl blushed and quickly nodded. The prince thought her pretty. She literally skipped away after Legolas had paid her.

“I think you made her day, little one.”

Legolas absent-mindedly nodded, not really listening to what Herenion was saying. He twirled the rose in his hand, thinking if he could convince Rhinure to wear it in her hair. Maybe even let her hair down.

“My Lord …” No response.

“MY LORD!” Legolas almost jumped as Herenion’s irritated voice reached his ears. He glared at the bodyguard, not appreciating having been shouted at.

“My Lord, the silversmith is waiting for you.”

“Oh!” Legolas turned to the elf, now standing respectfully in front of him – all the while determinedly ignoring Herenion.

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“I would like to commission a gift from you,” Legolas began.

“Of course, my Lord. What would you like?”

“I would have you make a gift for me for my lady.”

“Ah yes, Princess Rhinure – silver would suit her.” The smith smiled genially at Legolas, while the Prince ignored the satisfied smirk on Herenion’s face.

“It would suit her well. I wanted a piece of jewellery to be made in time for the wedding.” Legolas was acutely aware of Herenion’s interest in this conversation and for some reason he felt like blushing. It felt as if his father was watching him buy a present for his first sweetheart.

“Of course, my Prince. We can make any piece of jewellery that you would desire – necklaces, earrings, maybe a bracelet for your lovely lady’s wrists.”

Legolas shook his head, “I want none of these, my good Smith and all. I would like a bracelet made of the finest silver and three rings attached to it by slender chains.”

The poor Elf looked doubtfully at his Prince, not really understanding what the Legolas wanted from him. He was skilled in making jewellery and was proud of that fact but he had never heard of anyone wanting such a thing – let alone wearing one.

“My Lord, chains? Would your Lady not like something a little more – feminine?”

“This will be feminine. The chains should be so slender that they resemble gossamer,” Legolas said eagerly – he could see the karha on Rhinure’s hand.

The silversmith still looked unconvinced. Legolas tried starting again, when he saw Arandur walking though the crowds.

“Captain, if you would be so kind to join us.” Legolas called out to Arandur, catching the Avari’s attention.

Arandur changed directions, intrigued to know what the young Prince was doing in the market place and so early.

“Arandur, if you would show this good elf your karha please.”

Arandur blinked in surprise, but extended his hand towards the smith nonetheless.

“This is what I want you to make for me.”

The Silversmith looked at the device on Arandur’s hand and then looked at the Prince again. “My Lord, maybe the Princess would like something prettier,” he said a little desperately.

It was true, Arandur’s karha was hardly something that Legolas would give his bride. It seemed to be made of something suspiciously resembling steel. However, it displayed the general pattern Legolas wanted.

“No, I want something similar. Naturally, it will be made of silver and fit for the Princess’ hand. This is just an example. I want the bracelet to be light and comfortable, not a …” Legolas trailed off, looking at Arandur.

“Not a manacle?” Arandur asked, knowing full well that his heavy bracelet resembled a handcuff more than jewellery.

“Precisely,” Legolas said brightly, turning back to the smith, continuing, “the rings should be slender as well, and as I have already said the chains should almost the most willowy that you can manage.”

The Smith nodded, beginning to understand what Legolas wanted even if he did not understand why. The ways of royalty were a mystery.

“Now remember, I want the best silver, the finished piece should glow on her hand.”

“It will, my Lord.”

“And I want the rings to be inscribed with the royal seal of Mirkwood.”

The Smith nodded, and neither noted the look that passed through Arandur’s eyes. *~ You would mark her as your own, prince. I wonder if you know what you do. ~*

Arandur watched as Legolas gave the smith the measurement for Rhinure’s wrist and fingers. He did not know whether to be amused or frightened at the precision of Legolas’ memory. Legolas had no difficulty in remembering the exact size of Rhinure’s hand.  His Prince had been watching his Sacrifice very closely indeed – perhaps too closely.

“Very well, my Lord. Yes, I understand what you want. Be assured my Lord, it will be exactly as you wish. No, you do not have to explain it to me again. The first three times were more than sufficient. So, it will only be this bracelet and three rings?”

“Three?” Arandur asked Legolas, surprised.

 “Yes three, like the karha Rhinure wears now,” Legolas answered.

“My Prince, I fear you have made a mistake. You need four rings, three for the first three fingers and one more for the last. A wedding karha has four rings.”

“Four? But I thought the rings represented the three vows the Avari undertook.”

“They do Lord, which is why you need four rings – one for each of the four vows Rhinure will swear to you.”

Arandur’s tone was so serious that Legolas knew that the difference of one ring was a significant one.

“Arandur, what does this mean? Why …?”

“My Prince, maybe you would like to take a walk. I will accompany you, if you wish.”

Arandur’s stance clearly indicated to Legolas that this was not something that he was willing to discuss in front of the Smith.

“Yes I would like that. So, my good fellow, it seems as if I made a slight mistake. I will be needing four rings, not three. The rest still stands.”

“Very good, my Lord.” The smith bowed as Legolas left followed by Herenion and Arandur.

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Legolas waited until they were relatively clear of the crowds before he turned on Arandur. “Now explain it to me Arandur. Why were you displeased about the fact that Rhinure would need four rings on her bridal karha?”

“I was not displeased, my Lord. Just surprised that you did not know.”

“Did not know what? What difference does one more ring make, Captain?”

“All the difference.”

“I wish you would stop being so cryptic and clearly explain what you mean.” Legolas was getting tired of this Avari love of inscrutability.

“You truly do not understand, do you?” Arandur looked at Legolas, not sure on whether to continue or not. It should be Rhinure who explained these matters, not him.

“Of course not. How am I supposed to when you Avari take great delight in saying nothing?”

“My Lord, you know the three vows that the three rings represent?” Arandur asked.

“Yes, they represent: duty, obedience, and Life.”

“Very good. Taken together, they sum our honour, our commitment. It is an awesome responsibility to swear such vows.”

Legolas nodded, understanding what Arandur had said, Rhinure had already explained as much to him.

Arandur took a deep breath, now coming to the more intricate part, “In some ways, it is as overwhelming to accept such vows. When we swear these vows, we are giving our honour to the person who holds our oaths. One does not only accept that Avari’s fealty, one accepts responsibility for that person’s honour. The stronger the vows, the more Rings we wear to show our burden. The more dependant our honour on the oath-holder, and the more Honour he holds. Therefore, his responsibility is greater to act conscientiously. It is an unacknowledged tie between the oath-taker and the oath-holder.”

“So the bonds so work both ways. One pledges their honour and the other pledges to use it appropriately.”

“Exactly, my Lord. Though the ties are stronger on the bond-taker it does not change the fact that some of the burden falls on one who holds them as well. This is why no Avari swears any oath lightly.”

“I understand and even admire this, but what does this have to do with Rhinure and myself?” Legolas asked, even though he thought he knew the answer. Arandur was warning him that Rhinure’s vows to him placed some measure of liability on him as well. That was to be expected, any marriage was partly about dispersing burdens. Though it took Avari sensibility to see marriage as an increase in the load, not a partnership in sharing it.

It was good to know that, at least, the Avari took the marriage vows seriously.

“Though the Avari can and do swear many different kind of oaths they can all be summarised in the following. The vow to obey and to serve is the most common. Some like myself, Ehtewen and … Rhinure have sworn to do so for life.”

“Thus your three rings.”

“Yes thus, the three rings. It is a strong vow, so strong that most Avari do not swear them,” Arandur paused, looking deep into Legolas’ eyes, making sure the Prince realised the gravity of the situation. “But there are no vows in Avari life which are stronger than the marriage vows. They supersede all other vows, all other commitments, all other compulsions. They are they only vows which require four rings: duty, obedience, Life and Death.”

Legolas stepped back from the intensity in Arandur’s eyes. “There is nothing that Rhinure can swear, nothing she can promise which is greater than the what she gives to you.  You, Prince Legolas, will hold all her Honour.”

“And I can only hope that you are worthy of this power.”

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