Chapter 36 – Homecoming

Legolas held Rhinure’s chin for a moment longer before reluctantly releasing it. “Come, there is someone who has been wanting to see you.”

Rhinure nodded, stepping back to pick up Morion’s Blade. Her hands tightened over the familiar leather and for a moment she could almost here his voice again. It was telling her not to be weak, to do what was expected of her. She had people depending on her – she could not let herself fall apart. It was telling her that she needed to think of others before she could think of herself.

“My Lady?” Legolas’ gentle question blocked out the echo that still rung in her ears.

*~ I remember, chachu. I will always remember. ~*

Rhinure strapped the sword to her back in one fluid movement before she looked at Legolas, “I am ready, my Lord. Who wanted to see me?”

“Come out with me and you can see for yourself.” Legolas waited until Rhinure acknowledged him by a dip of her head. Then he led her out to where her Avari waited.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“Arandur?”

“I have come, Mistress.”

Rhinure held in any surprise she felt at the sight of the Captain. If she was glad to see him, she did not indicate it. Neither did Arandur, his face was bland as he saluted his Mistress.

“King Thranduil was worried about his … children. He sent me with the reinforcements to make sure that you return safely.”

“King Thranduil’s concern for … us is appreciated.” Rhinure knew that Arandur was here because Thranduil was worried about Legolas. But, it was to be expected – Thranduil loved Legolas, even Rhinure could recognise that easily. Still, even if it was concern for just her physical well-being, it was appreciated.

Arandur watched his Mistress silently, taking in her frame, noting the stiffness in her shoulder and the weakness in her muscles.

“I will be riding, Captain.” Rhinure’s eyes told him that whatever weakness he saw was irrelevant. She was strong enough to fulfil her duty – the weakness he saw would pass. As it always did

“I know, Mistress.”

*~ I expected as much. ~*

His eyes fell on the Blade strapped against Rhinure’s body and he felt his chest hurt. “You carry the Second Guard’s Blade.”

“As is my right, Captain.”

Arandur wanted to offer his strength and his support to this elleth in front of him but he knew it would be unwelcome. Rhinure did not need anyone’s pity or strength. She had more than enough of her own. Arandur would do well to look after himself.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas watched the two Avari talk to each other, noting the clipped tones and the strict postures they maintained. He wanted to shake the both of them; this distance they insisted in maintaining at all cost was beginning to irritate him greatly. The control they kept of themselves was artificial, he was sure of it. And like all artificial things, it was causing more harm then either person realised. By denying what they felt, the Avari were causing themselves unnecessary pain.

It was so clear to Legolas, so easy for him. Let others in so that they could help, so that they could replace the sorrow with joy. It had worked so well for him that he could not imagine his life being any other way. When he watched Rhinure, he felt a deep swell of sympathy for her – how could she live her life in such loneliness? Did it not smother her?

Rhinure turned from Arandur and caught the glimmer of pity on Legolas’ face. Her back immediately straightened. No matter what she had done, what she had lost, she did not need pity. She did not need another’s emotions – she would not accept another’s weakening to bolster herself. She had survived on her own, and she would do so again.

To depend on others, to become emotionally entangled with them only led to betrayal. Had not the death of her uncle proved that – once again? Had she not been damaged because she had made the mistake of looking to someone else when she should have been self-sufficient?

Feel; just do not let others affect what you feel. Feel, but do not expect others to feel as you do.

“My Lord, when do we ride?”

Legolas’ eyes narrowed at her cold tone, he was not about to let her escape from him again. He was just beginning to understand her; he was not about to let her confound him again. “When you are ready, my Lady. We have been waiting for you.”

“Then it would be best if we leave now.”

Rhinure walked over to her horse, swinging on before Legolas could offer to help her on. She looked down at her husband, silently telling him to stop wasting time. Legolas set his jaw and mounted his own horse. He looked at the villagers and thanked them once again. They nodded and waved as the Home Guard rode out of the village.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Arandur nudged his horse back to where Rhinure was riding. “Mistress, will the First Guard recover?”

Rhinure looked down at the sleeping form of Ehtewen, who was carefully strapped on to the stretcher, sedated for the journey. Ehtewen had not been pleased, but the Healer had insisted that it would be prudent if he kept her unconscious for the journey home. After all, Ehtewen did not want to suffer a relapse. Rhinure had agreed that no unnecessary risks should be taken, effectively ending the discussion. However, Rhinure knew that Ehtewen would find a way to remind Rhinure that she has not approved of this decision. Ehtewen never forgot anything.

“I believe so, Captain,” Rhinure looked up at him. “Why do you leave your post?”

“Lieutenant Faelon and Herenion can lead the company. There is no need for me to be there – for now.”

Arandur looked at Ehtewen, not liking the way her eyes remained shut. It was unnatural for him not to see her black eyes glare at him. He felt Rhinure’s eyes on him, watching him ever so closely. After hundreds of years serving with the Silvan elves, it was unusual to feel Elven eyes upon him. No Wood-elf dared stare at him for long; the underlying menace he exuded was enough to make most back off. The few who could withstand his temperament, had better things to do than bother with a Captain. Rulers had other duties after all.

For the Avari it was different. As Sacrifice all Avari were Rhinure’s responsibility. It was her duty to see to their well-being, their comfort – their very lives. It was for this she existed. And she took her obligations very seriously. It would take some getting used to – being important to someone again.

“Will you have the funeral in the Palace or do you plan to take the Blades home?”

“I will hold the funerals today, if possible, and then take the ashes home. You will see an Avari funeral again, Captain.”

“I would rather not. It is something I could have forgone.”

“As we all could have. Unfortunately, there are still some things beyond our control.”

“When do you plan to return?”

“A new Second Guard must be chosen as soon as possible. I will need to return home week’s end.”

“I will see that preparations are made.”

“It is not necessary, Captain. The Avari know what needs to be done.”

“Nevertheless, I will see that the preparations for your journey are made.”

“As you wish.”

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

The rest of the journey was spent in relative silence as the Elves headed back into the Woodland realm. The Home Guard whispered amongst themselves occasionally, but kept their eyes on the trees. Their Prince had been hurt once; they would not let it happen again.

The Avari did not feel the need to even whisper. They gave each other the privacy of their own thoughts as long as each kept a sharp eye on their Mistress. She rode once more, filling them with purpose. Their lives were irrelevant as long as hers was preserved. And as long as they kept reminding themselves of that, they could ignore the Blade that rested against Rhinure’s back.

Rhinure rode ahead of the litter that carried Ehtewen, with Istion cloaked next to her. Neither looked at each other, or at the prone form of the Guard behind them. They kept their eyes ahead and backs straight, they could do no less. The difference between the two was that while Istion concentrated on the terrain, Rhinure kept her eyes on the golden head in front of her.

Legolas was riding in front with Herenion and Faelon. Herenion had been reluctant at first, but seeing that no danger was expected he thought it best to let Legolas have his way – just this once. He had gone through enough not to be thwarted by his bodyguard. It was best to indulge the Prince once in a while. Like his father before him, Legolas could be petulant if crossed too often, though Herenion was sure neither father nor son would admit to such.

Right now Legolas was ostensibly riding with them, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Herenion watched with pride as Legolas’ blue eyes scanned the territory, but he could see that his heart was somewhere else – probably somewhere near the vicinity of the elleth who rose behind them – whose eyes remained locked on his Prince.

Herenion was tempted to turn back and look at Rhinure, but that would only displease Legolas. He had made it clear that Rhinure was not to be disturbed even by him. Of course, Faelon cheerfully disregarded his Princes’ orders. Turning back once again, “She still watches us, my Lord.”

“Does she?” Legolas kept his voice indifferent but Herenion noted the way he almost leaned towards Faelon to catch the elf’s soft words.

“Yes, or to be more precise – she still watches you.” Faelon looked at his Prince, “I think you should go talk to her.”

“She probably wants to be alone.” Legolas managed to stop himself from turning his horse around.

“If she does, you can just leave again, my Prince.” Faelon said casually.

Legolas glanced at Herenion, who was trying very hard not to laugh. Legolas was not going to ask his bodyguard as he was old enough to make his own decisions, and Herenion was not about to make things easier for him by offering his opinion.

“Well, she is not alone anymore.” Faelon spoke up. “Arandur just joined her – and her Guard, Istion, seems to have moved in as well. They seem to be talking about something.”

Legolas nodded, resigned to staying where he was. If he felt any annoyance at the Captain, he chose to ignore it.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

“Did you find the other Blades, Mistress?” Arandur asked, moving his horse so that it rode next to Rhinure’s.

“Yes, Istion carries one and Agorion the other.”

“What will you do with them?”

“Amar’s will be given to his eldest daughter – she takes her vows soon. Tathren’s Blade will be given to her mate; she did not have any children so I will allow him to decide who will carry her memory.”

“And … Morion’s?”

Rhinure paused, “Morion’s Blade will be passed on to whomsoever wins his position as Second Guard.”

Arandur had known the answer to the question but he wanted to hear the answer from Rhinure’s lips. He knew that she had no choice in who inherited Morion’s Blade. He knew she wanted Morion’s son to wield his father’s Blade, but the child was too young. Someone else would be Second Guard, and someone else would have the privilege to recollect.

 “Mistress …” Arandur fell silent. What difference could his words make?

“I know what you wish to say, Arandur. Do not. This is the way it must be.”

“Mistress, I will try for the Second Guard’s place.” Istion said quietly. Rhinure looked at the Avari next to her.

“If you wish to, I will not stop you. But be certain that this is what you want. It is not a responsibility to be undertaken lightly. If you choose to take the vows then be sure you believe it to be the right thing to do.”

“There is nothing more I would wish than to serve my Mistress.”

Rhinure nodded, “Then I will accept your appeal when we return to Tirnen.”

Istion saluted and as he brought his arm down, he lightly touched the blade on Rhinure’s back. “Besides, I want to make Morion’s Blade sing once again.”

Istion looked at Rhinure and even though he tried to hide it, she saw the pain in those eyes. She turned her eyes away from him, allowing him his privacy. And herself as well.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas finally allowed himself to turn back and look at Rhinure. He frowned when he saw the three Avari having, what seemed to his eyes, to be a serious conversation. He saw Istion salute and then touch Rhinure’s back. He almost hissed when he saw the pain flash in the younger elf’s eyes. Even from this distance, he could see that Istion suffered.

But any thoughts of the younger elf were driven out of his mind when his eyes met Rhinure. Istion’s pain was nothing compared to what he saw in his wife’s face. Her eyes burned with such sorrow that Legolas wondered how she could still manage to keep the rest of herself so unmoved. At that point all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and tell her that everything would be all right. Even if he would have to lie, he would do it to make her feel better.

He remained where he was; the slight shake of Rhinure’s head telling him not to approach. It was as if she had told him that she did not want him to be near her. Legolas did not know whether it was the pain which kept him in his place or the anguish he saw in Rhinure’s face.

Rhinure watched Legolas turn away from her – she had hurt him, she could feel it. But she could not think about him at this moment. Every ounce of her strength was needed to ignore what Istion had said. Only now was she realising that Morion was gone. His Blade would belong to someone else, and while she was pleased that Istion had offered, better he than some stranger, it would not be the same. It was Morion’s, only his – no one had the right to touch it, let alone wield it.

Rhinure could feel the weight of the Blade against her back. She knew if she drew the sword out, she would be able to smell Morion’s blood. She wanted to clutch the sword against her chest and cradle it, as she had not been allowed to cradle Morion’s wounded body. She wanted to keep it next to heart, as she had ever kept Morion. It was the least that was owed to her, the least that they could let her keep.

Her wounded eyes fell on Arandur and the Captain turned away, slightly ashamed that he had witnessed the rage in her eyes. That slight withdrawal was enough to make Rhinure remember that she was in public and this was not the place to indulge herself. Drawing herself up she spoke briefly to Arandur, “If you do not have any other questions, Captain, you should return to your patrol.”

“As you wish, Mistress.” As Arandur kicked his horse forward, he saw Rhinure draw her hood up, hiding herself from the gazes of the Elves around her. It was not the same thing as being alone but it gave her some measure of privacy. Rhinure’s action seemed to set off a chain reaction. Istion soon followed by putting up his hood as well, and soon most of the Avari had pulled theirs up as well. Each Avari became as withdrawn into himself as was possible on the march back to Mirkwood.

All, except him. For two thousand years he had denied the Moriquendi part of himself. One more day would not make a difference. When he was back in his own quarters he would grieve for all that he had lost. Three Avari had fallen today and for that Arandur’s heart bled, but of all the Elves, he had lost the most. He grieved for the Avari as the Wood-elves could not and he grieved for the Silvan Scout since the Avari knew not how to do so. He had lost four elves today – truly, a huge loss to bear, but he would do it.

Nothing less would be acceptable to this Elf who bridged the gap between the two races.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

Legolas found himself wondering why the Avari all pulled up their hoods.  Like the rest of the Wood-elves he scanned the tress but they assured him that nothing foul lurked in the shadows. Legolas had only seen them do so when they wanted to disappear in the shadows – or, he realised, eyes widening, when they wanted to become anonymous.

They were hiding.

Legolas watched Arandur ride back to his side, face carefully blank. There was something disturbingly familiar in the Captain’s face – pain, sorrow and the ever-present ice coating it all. These were Avari eyes, cold, merciless – wounded.

Legolas cleared his throat, drawing Arandur’s attention to him. “Is Princess Rhinure well?”

“As well as can be expected, my Lord. I think she wanted to be alone.”

“And you, do you wish to be alone?”

“Yes, my lord.”

At least Arandur’s tongue was firmly in place – if not his mask. Legolas firmly shut his mouth, feeling like a little Elfling again. He probably should have appreciated Arandur’s candour but he could not help feel a little abused. He had just been trying to help. First Rhinure and now Arandur, both seemed determined to push him as far as possible.

Herenion shrugged when Legolas turned to him. He did not understand the Avari any more than the Prince did in this moment. To re-buff concern, especially well meaning concern was impolite – to put it mildly.

Both Elves turned to Arandur when they heard Rhinure’s horse approach his side. Though she did not lower her hood, Legolas could almost feel the pain radiating from her body. It was suffocating in its intensity.

Rhinure held out a bundle of black to Arandur, “This was Morion’s cloak. If King Thranduil does not have an objection then you may wear it.”

Arandur’s hand shook a little as he accepted the bundle from Rhinure’s outstretched palm. After such a long time he again held an Avari cloak in his hands. After two thousand years, he finally had permission to wear it, permission from his Sacrifice. His fingers lightly fingered the material – an Avari cloak, Morion’s cloak.

Rhinure bent forward so that only Arandur could hear the words, “I do not have much to give, but I would give you this.” Arandur was not sure whether she meant the gift of Morion’s cloak, or the right to wear the cloak – maybe both.

Rhinure reigned her horse back to where Ehtewen lay, not sparing another glance for Arandur, or for Legolas.

Legolas watched her ride back to her position and only then turned to scrutinize Arandur. The Captain’s hand still caressed the material and his eyes were focused on some far away scene. Legolas was sure that he saw unshed tears in the Avari’s eyes – but before he could look again, Arandur blinked and turned his eyes back onto Legolas.

Once again, Legolas could not shake the feeling that he was intruding where he was not wanted or needed. “Put it on if you wish, Captain.”

“I will wait for the King’s permission”

“Until the King is here, I speak with his voice.” Legolas reminded Arandur, drawing himself to his full height, letting his blue eyes narrow a little. If he had to, he would order Arandur to wear the cloak. Thankfully, he did not have to; Arandur quickly threw the black cloth around his shoulders. Legolas watched with something approaching awe as he saw the Captain disappear and only an Avari remain.

But, right before Arandur pulled up the hood, Legolas caught a look of gratitude in the dark elf’s eyes.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x

It was after six long days that Legolas finally entered the returned to the  Palace. As the gates swung open to admit the company, Legolas felt his heart sing in gratitude and joy – he was home. And on the steps of the main entrance was his Ada. There was his Ada walking towards him.

Legolas jumped down from the horse and was immediately engulfed in two strong arms. Thranduil squeezed the very life out of his son, but Legolas did not mind.

“Never do that to me again, ion nín .”                <My son.>

“I am sorry, Ada. I did not mean to worry you.”

“You will be the death of me yet.”

“Never, Ada, never. I will die before that.”

Thranduil released his son a little to look into Legolas’ face. He saw regret and guilt in those blue eyes, and he could not bear it. “Do you think I would survive your death, little one? Take care of yourself and I will be fine.”

Legolas smiled, hugging his father again, burying his head in Thranduil’s chest. Everything would be fine now – he had come home.

x – x – x – x – x – x – x – x