Chapter 50 – Debt

Legolas stifled a groan as he kneaded his stiff shoulders. They still ached after that little workout with Thranduil. His father was too strong for Legolas’ own good. Legolas drew back the bowstring, trying to ignore his protesting body. Elves supposed to be hardy. Elves were supposed to ignore pain. Elves … were not meant to fight with their fathers because they would be royally trounced.

Legolas sighed and lowered his practice bow, causing the instructor to look at him askance. This was probably the first time in his memory that Prince Legolas had ended his archery practice early. Legolas shook his head tiredly, stalling any awkward questions. He did not want others to know how badly he had lost. Though he might as well have not bothered, if the instructor’s knowing smirk was any indication of how fast news travelled in Mirkwood.

*~ Perhaps a walk in the garden will do me good. ~* Legolas acknowledged the bows the smiling guards made him. *~ A nice secluded garden. ~*

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The gardens had been another bad idea in a week full of bad ideas for Legolas. The solitude caused Legolas’ thoughts to wander, and they wandered right to Rhinure. He could not help but imagine what it would be like to have her by his side.

They would walk side by side along the green, slightly overgrown paths, arms lightly touching but otherwise displaying no outward signs of intimacy. Rhinure would naturally be upset and bored since she had no interest in horticulture. Legolas would, nonetheless, insist on talking, if only so that he could see that little frown mar her forehead. Her eyebrows would draw down and that bristling, adorably irritated expression would flash through her eyes.

As soon as that would happen, Legolas would turn and gather her into his arms. She would, as a matter of course, protest but he would silence her anyway. Her mouth would yield to him and her body mould to his, the only time Rhinure would ever be that soft.

They would kiss until neither’s knees were capable of holding them up. They would sink to the soft grass, mouths clinging to each other, bodies straining to get even closer. Legolas would lay Rhinure back, hands moving to remove …

*~ Enough! ~* Legolas viciously slammed the door on such thoughts. Rhinure was not here and thoughts like these left him aching. He missed her, he could not deny that. Perhaps it should have surprised him how much he missed her. After all, it had not been that long ago that Rhinure had been a complete stranger. It had not been that long ago that Legolas’ life went ahead without her. Now, Legolas sighed, now he could not imagine anyone else in his arms.

Legolas looked around. Suddenly the solitude felt suspiciously like loneliness.

*~ Come back, Rhinure. ~*

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“Are you thinking of one elf in particular or will any do?”

Legolas looked up to find Arandur standing in front of him. “What are you doing here?” Surprise made his words a little brusque.

“This happens to be a public garden, hîr nín – and one of my favourite places. I saw you enter and thought you could use some company. If mine will not do then I can send for another.”

“Thank you for your concern but I am fine. You do not need to bother. I will leave if I am disturbing you.”

Arandur looked at the young Prince, noting the droop of his shoulders and the way his fingers unconsciously stroked a long-stemmed rose. “Are you sure, my Lord? I am not she, but I am Avari.”

Legolas’ head snapped up, eyes narrowed. He did not appreciate Arandur’s presumption, no matter how well meaning. Arandur ignored the look and sat down next to the Eldar, driven by an uncharacteristic desire for company. The Avari arrival had stirred up a longing that Arandur had spent centuries suppressing. Their departure, without him, had left him even more conscious of his exile than he had been for a long time. Legolas was possibly the only one who would understand. In some way, he too had been left behind.

“I hear you met my nephew.”

“Your nephew?”

“Erutunín.”

 “I did not know he was your nephew.”

“My brother’s son.” Arandur fell silent, not knowing what to say now that he had intruded upon Legolas. “Did he … did he ask about me?”

Legolas shook his head, “I am sorry but the chance never came up. We did not speak for long.”

Arandur nodded, but did not say anything. He had not really expected Erutunín to ask – but he had hoped.

An uncomfortable silence fell on both elves, neither knowing what to say to comfort the other. Legolas finally asked, more to say something than out of real curiosity, “So – do you have any sisters?”

“No, only one brother.”

“I have never seen him at the Palace.”

“He has never been to the Palace.”

“Then – when was the last time you saw him?”

“Before I took service in the Home Guard.”

“That was,” Legolas paused when he realised exactly how long Arandur been serving at the Palace, “1466 years ago.”

“Yes.”

Legolas swallowed, “And in that time, you have never seen your family? Not even once?”

“In that time I have never seen my Blood – I have no family.”

“But you just said you had a brother and a nephew.”

“They are my Blood Kin, but not my family.”

Legolas was confused and was going to ask Arandur to explain, when the Avari continued himself, “A family is formed by choice, Blood by birth. King Thranduil is your family because you so choose. The fact that you were born his son just re-enforces the tie, it does not create it.”

“Does – does Rhinure have such family?” Legolas hoped that the answer would affirmative. He did not want her to speak in such a heart-rending manner. He wanted her to know the joy that he felt when he was with his father.

“She did – Morion.”

“No others, no brother, sister – father, mother?” Legolas asked with rising urgency, every time Arandur shook his head no. “Then she is alone?”

“She has you – you are her husband, her Bonded.” Legolas could not help the fierce pride that statement evoked. The fact that another Avari considered him important to Rhinure’s life, in a way validated what they shared. “You are Kin and might even become her family. She has that opportunity if she chooses to take it. And do remember, she will always have the Clan.”

“So do you. You are Avari and will always be one.”

“Perhaps, but those Kin ties seem very weak when I am here and the Avari are not.”

Legolas sighed, knowing exactly how Arandur felt. Being away from Rhinure made him wonder, made him doubt, made him hurt. It was a lot easier when she was near – even though being with her caused as many problems as being away from her.

“You miss her, do you not?” Arandur asked.

“Yes – how could I not?”

Arandur nodded knowingly, “Mistress is a memorable elleth – most Sacrifices are. Her mother certainly had a presence about her.”

“Rhinure’s mother was Sacrifice too?” Legolas asked eagerly, interested in any information about his wife.

“Yes. When she … died, Mistress Rhinure took her place.”

“How long has Rhinure been Sacrifice?”

“Sarniel – her mother, died in III 1553. Mistress became Sacrifice before the year was out.”

“Rhinure must have been very young then,” Legolas mused.

“She was 1136.”

“So she is 270 years younger than I am.” Legolas felt absurdly pleased at the thought. Though age difference was not as important amongst elves as it was for humans, Legolas was pleased that he was older. He did not know how, but he was determined to use this to his advantage. He would have some reason to lord it over his stubborn wife. After that flash of frivolous pride subsided, Legolas realised something else, “You joined the Home Guard the year she became Sacrifice?”

“Three months before she swore the oaths.”

“Why did you never go back?”

“I swore to serve your father, and until my service is over I cannot go home.”

Legolas looked down to the karha on Arandur’s hand, and the three rings on it. “Are those rings for the vows you swore to the King?”

“Yes.”

“They are three.”

“You are very observant, my Lord.”

“You serve Adar for life.”

“Yes.”

“Then …”

“Then, I will never go home.”

Legolas was shocked at the finality in the Avari’s tone. He could not imagine such a life. This was not service, this was slavery. Never to see your home, never to see your Kin. And if Legolas understood the Avari custom – there would be no chance to choose your family either. How could Arandur ever hope to do so when his people were far away? “Rhinure should not have done that to you.”

“Your anger clouds your judgement, my Prince. Mistress did not do this, she was not Sacrifice then. Her heir, Commander Cothion, ordered me to come here.”

“Then he is to blame for your exile.”

“It does not work that way, my Lord. He cannot, he did not order me to swear to serve King Thranduil. In the end, only I am to blame. It was my choice to swear. If I had refused, he would have sent me back and I would be with my people.”

“This Cothion must have had some idea of what you were going to do, otherwise he would not have sent you.”

Arandur’s jaw tightened as he controlled the anger that surged through him. Cothion had known exactly what he would have chosen. He had known that Arandur would have never refused to serve since that is what the Clan needed him to do. He had known that his baby brother was the only Avari who would have obeyed without being ordered. “It was my choice, and my choice alone.”

*~ And it is my choice never to call him family. ~*

Legolas decided not to pressure Arandur about this matter, but it was clear that Cothion was to blame. There had been no compulsion per se, but expectations could often be as binding. Legolas knew, had he not married Rhinure because Thranduil wanted it of him. “What convinced you to serve Adar?”

“My Clan needed me to. I was the surety to the King of the Avari’s good behaviour. I was the example that proved the Avari worth.”

Legolas felt strangely disappointed at that brutally honest behaviour. He was proud of serving his father and wanted – often expected – others to feel the same way. This was especially true of Arandur, who he had always admired. Those feelings, pushed to the background after his revelation, came bubbling to the surface again. Legolas realised at that moment that he had forgiven the Avari for his deception. Arandur was still Captain of the Home Guard, an elf who had served his father and people loyally for over a thousand years. Being Avari, doing his duty even though it meant isolation from everything he had ever known, just highlighted the elf’s commitment. After knowing Rhinure, and learning more about her people, Legolas could appreciate the sacrifice more than ever.

“Do you ever regret your choice?”

“Even if I did, it would change nothing. What I feel does not affect what I do.”

“Do you really believe that? How can you divorce action and feeling so easily? We are emotional creatures, we cannot survive without them.”

“I did not say I, or the Avari, did not feel. We just do not let it influence us, as far as it is possible. In battle you keep what you fear under control, push it deep down. We only do the same.”

“Life is not a battle.”

“It is for us.”

“How can it be?”

“Life is a struggle for us – it always has been. We have suffered captivity but we managed to escape. We suffered neglect but we managed to survive. But we have paid a heavy price for these things. We lost our home to Morgoth’s evil, and our innocence. Cuiviénen was the only home we knew but it was also known to his minions. One by one, with a single-mindedness borne from madness, all of us were imprisoned. Some of us escaped, some of us did not. But we were scattered, too weak to fight back. Since then, the Avari have been wanderers, refugees with no place to call our own.

“It has only been recently that we have found a resting place in Mirkwood, but not all the Avari. Thirteen clans we were before the First Age, now we are only three. Only three have found some sort of home. And even these three – the Clan – face trouble once more. Once more our home is threatened. With a life like that, do you wonder why we call it a battle?”

Legolas could only nod dumbly, his throat blocked at the thought of his fellow elves having suffered so much. The Silvan elves had suffered upheaval too but they had always had each other. Even when they set out to create a new home, they knew that they would be together. That sense of belonging – to a family, had held them together, and had given them the courage to fight the Shadow no matter what the cost. But if they, too had been scattered and broken as the Avari were, would they have fared differently?

In the face of Legolas’ silence, Arandur continued, “Like any battle, emotions confuse and eventually betray us. Was Mistress’ loss not enough to convince you of that? She lost Morion because she let her feelings get the better of her. She, like all Avari, recognises that as elves, we are vulnerable to our hearts but we try to minimise its damage. We may give into it when we are alone, when we cannot hurt others, but when it comes to interaction and public life we always try to act with dispassion and detachment. That is the only way we know.”

“And Rhinure?” Legolas whispered. “Does she believe the same?”

“She is Avari.”

And that was enough; Arandur did not need to say anymore. Legolas knew what that meant for him and for his relationship with Rhinure. While he respected Rhinure’s right to live as she chose, he knew deep in his heart that he would not be happy with Rhinure’s detached approach. He did not want his wife’s dispassion; if anything, he wanted the complete opposite. He wanted her to want him, to need him with everything in her – mind, body, soul, and heart. He wanted her trust, her faith, her tenderness – all the emotions she felt but denied him. He wanted her love.

Legolas immediately shied away from that thought. He would not think of love at this point, he just could not. The possibility that he might not receive it from Rhinure frightened him. He would not leave her; he could not break his marriage vows even though the possibility that it might forever remain an emotionless union made him hurt with more than a physical pain.

He would not think about this – there had to be a way to work around this. There had to be a way to make the Avari see that emotions too had their uses. He had to make Rhinure see that she was safe with him, safe to share anything – even something she had been taught to avoid all her life. There had to be a way.

He would think of it later, Legolas promised himself. For now, he had to distract himself. “If your oaths did not bind you, would you have stayed in Mirkwood?”

“Your father would not have let me stay without making some oath of allegiance, my Lord. I made the only one that was meaningful to me – to serve.”

“I know, but can you not humour my question?”

“I suppose I could.” Arandur paused for the minute to consider the request seriously – as he did all things. “If my oaths, to your father and to … others, did not hold me here then – I would not stay.”

Legolas looked suspiciously at Arandur, wondering if how he should construe that statement. Finally, he decided to give Arandur the freedom of speaking completely and honestly,  “Why?”

“When I left Tirnen there was a someone waiting for me. I know not if she still waits but given the choice I would like to tell her that I think of her still.”

“Is this someone your wife?”

“No, but she could have been.”

“Have you heard from her since you came here?”

“No.”

“Then,” Legolas hesitated but he had to voice his opinion, “she might not wait for you. She might have … moved on, so to speak.”

“She might have.”

“Then, why would you want to see her?”

“To tell her that I have not. I have no right to expect anything from her and I do not. If she has Bonded to another then that is her due.”

“You love her.”

Arandur stiffened at Legolas’ accusation, “That, my Lord, is none of your concern.”

“But you do, do you not?” Legolas persisted. If Arandur could love and be made to admit it, then Rhinure could not be that hard to convince.

“Perhaps I should leave you, my Lord. This conversation seems to be over,” Arandur said coldly.

“Captain, I apologise. I did not mean to offend.” Legolas knew that he had crossed that invisible boundary separating curiosity and impropriety. But he had been unable to help himself.

Arandur looked at the Sindar, “Do you believe your apology makes matters better?”

“No, but it is my way of admitting my mistake.”

“I need no such admission from you, my Lord.”

“But if you accept it then you will also be accepting my vow that I will not let it happen again.”

“My Lord, you inevitably will overstep yourself. You will not be able to help it. Restraint is not one of your strengths.”

Legolas smiled; Arandur’s words were enough to tell him that he had been forgiven. The Avari had the most roundabout way of saying something so simple – apology accepted. But they were right that after a while even apologies lost meaning. If actions did not back them up then they became meaningless – noise instead of words. Perhaps that is why the Avari avoided the words so markedly. Perhaps they been inundated by so much noise that they could not hear the words. Perhaps they knew not how to distinguish between sincerity and artificiality.

Maybe that was the key to Legolas’ “Rhinure” problem. All Legolas had to do was show her that he meant whatever he said to her. Yes, that was it – convince her of his seriousness. Simple.

Now if she would only come home.

“Are you accusing me of being rash, Captain?”

“If you wish to take my words as such then, of course, you may do so.”

Legolas grinned, “Such a high opinion you have of me, do you not?”

Arandur replied so seriously that it gave Legolas pause. “Yes, I do.”

“If you have such a high opinion of me then how can you regret staying in the Realm?”

“Did I ever say I regretted staying?”

“You said that given a choice you would return to Tirnen – which, by the way, is a most appropriate name for your home.”

“Thank you. I have always found it … resonant. However, my saying that I wanted to return to Tirnen does not mean that I regret staying in the Kingdom. Regret would imply that I made an error by swearing my vows. I do not think of them as a mistake.”

“How can you not when you only see them as something done for your people? How can you not mourn every day spent away from your people when there is nothing for you here?”

“The fact that what I do here helps my people is enough. It is not an ideal situation. I would like to be with my people; I will not deny that. My desire to be with them, however, does not mean that there is nothing for me in Mirkwood. There is duty, service – and honour for me here. Serving your father brings me honour – more than you can imagine.”

“How so?”

“You will not understand.”

“Explain it to me – I might,” Legolas insisted. This was the first positive thing Arandur had said and it intrigued him. He could not imagine anyone serving as loyally as Arandur did without feeling something for the King. From what Legolas has learnt of the Avari, this loyalty could come even from great dislike. The pride they took in their service, in doing their duty, prompted them to be meticulous in all circumstances. If Arandur hated the King, it was more likely that not that he would serve with an even greater zeal – all to prove that his private feelings did not make a difference. Legolas did not want such a fate for the Captain, which was partly why he had hoped that Arandur viewed his life in Mirkwood with some degree of pleasantness. The conversation – till now – had not sustained that hope.

Arandur sighed softly, too softly for Legolas to hear. He did not really want to talk about this but his Prince has asked. And he could not lie. “You remember that I told you that it was only recently that the Avari came to Mirkwood?” Legolas nodded. “Can you guess when exactly that was?”

“Sometime after I was born?”

“It was in the first year of the Third Age. Right after the Battle of the Last Alliance. The Avari Sacrifice, Sarniel, came to speak to a young King to ask his permission if we could settle in his forest. The King, despite his great loss, took the time to hear her petition. For petition it was – the Avari had nothing at that point. We were scattered and weak. The Enemy would have killed us one by one, destroyed us, if we had not banded together. We had nothing to offer and still this King allowed our petition.

“He had always been taught that the Avari were dark elves – the Unwilling who had refused the summons of the Valar. The Deep Elves had been exiled from Valinor for their disobedience, Ilúvatar alone knows how the Avari, and the ones who helped them, would be punished for their mutiny. It was enough for all others to refuse to help the Avari – we knew and understood that. The Avari were trouble that others did not need. We were trouble – darkness in a time of despair, and still this King welcomed us into his home.

“Can you imagine what a debt that is for us, my Lord?”

Legolas shook his head, fascinated by the tale and the intensity in Arandur’s voice.

“Your father gave us a home when we were destitute. He gave us purpose when we were adrift. He gave us a chance for survival when we faced extinction. He gave us Honour when we had none. He gave us life when all we asked for was to escape death. He gave us all of this without asking for much in return – all because he knew what it meant to face loss. He, an Eldar, knew what the Avari had suffered because he too had endured.

“In the end, for me, he is Kin. And for Kin I will do anything. That is the Avari way – it has always been so.”

Arandur got up and made to leave. Legolas only looked at the Avari, tears lurking in his blue eyes. “I had no idea. I … what you said before …” Legolas trailed off. He wanted to apologise for thinking that Arandur served for only mercenary reasons but he did not know how. It seemed as if all he was doing around the Avari was apologising. It was no wonder they discredited his words.

“You could not have. It is not something I speak of very often. But remember, this does not negate what I said before. I serve because my people need me to. My duty is still a testimony to our commitment, much like Mistress’ marriage to you. Now, you just know the why behind our debt.”

“Did Lady Rhinure marry me to fulfil this debt?”

“Perhaps, but this debt is an old one. One that, to my mind, did not need a marriage to recoup it. The King has claims on our lives, which we have paid back for over 3000 years – but even he does not have the claim on us as you have of Mistress Rhinure. You are her husband, you are beyond everything to her. Such a claim would require a much greater debt than even ours to King Thranduil.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“No, my Lord. I do not. You will have to ask Mistress Rhinure yourself.”

“Then you cannot be sure that this marriage was not about repayment of old debts. Rhinure might feel differently than you – she might think that the only way to repay Adar is by marrying me.”

“That is possible. I cannot know what Mistress Rhinure thinks. But then, neither can you.”

“Are there no circumstances in which marriage is the only repayment of a debt?”

“I am sure there are – but you can answer that question better than I. After all, you agreed to marry Mistress Rhinure. What was so important that you were willing to give up everything you held dear?”

*~ My people. For them I agreed to this. For them I was willing to marry a stranger. ~*

“From your expression I gather that you know what was so imperative. Then I ask you this, knowing what you know of Mistress Rhinure do you think that there is something equally important to her that she was willing to marry you?”

Legolas nodded painfully. Would Rhinure not have given up everything for her people as he had done? Did he not know her enough to know that she thought the same way about her duty as he did?

Arandur turned from the entrance to look at the silent Sindar elf. Legolas’ features were downcast and his hand trembled slightly at it rested on his knee. “My Lord,” Arandur called, causing Legolas to look at him. “Just because a marriage started out as a debt does not mean that it has to remain like that. Even debts must end some day, and marriages do not. After Mistress’ debt, if it exists, has ended, you will still be her husband. Nothing can change that. Not even duty.”

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A/N: Cuiviénen is the Waters of the Awakening. The way I figured the Avari stayed near there during the Time of the Great Journey.

For me the Avari are not a racial sub-set of elves as the Noldor or Telari are. They are from the same racial stock as the rest of the Eldar. At the time of the Journey, pockets of each sub-set (with the possible exception of the Vanyar) decided to stay in ME. These became the Avari – which is why they were so scattered in the first place.

All in all, there were 13 of these pockets – which became the 13 Clans. All acknowledge themselves to be Avari but they lived with their Clans in small groups, which made it much easier for Sauron and Morgoth’s minion to capture them (Morgoth was in Aman at this time).

6 of them were tortured/mutilated and became orcs – though some Eldar shared the same fate as well I suppose. 3 of them escaped and eventually settled in Mirkwood. Rhinure leads these 3 now.

I guess that is enough of summary – I promised I would not explain this all in a note and find some way to weave it in but I was too tired. Work and reunions are on my brain. I hope you all forgive me.

A/N 2: Oh yeah, one more thing  - Deep Elves are Noldor. Arandur’s statement about them being exiled from Valinor is not strictly correct. The Silmarillion does NOT support it. Of course, everything that Arandur says may be considered the Avari version of events – how they see the Kinslaying episode. Please bear this in mind – it makes a difference for later.

The Avari, as in everything, have their own way of doing things – even remembering history. Call in a dark elf spin on things.