6. In Which Tempers Are Lost

Legolas knocked on the door of Miriwen’s family’s cottage. He waited for a moment and then her father opened the door. “Legolas,” he said, sounding surprised. “We have not seen you in a while. Come in.” He opened the door wider and admitted Legolas into the little hallway that led to the kitchen on one side and the sitting room on the other. He led the way into the kitchen, where Miriwen was on the floor playing with the baby while her mother sat knitting in a rocking chair near the fire.

“Hello, Legolas,” said Miriwen’s mother kindly enough, but her gaze went to her older daughter.

When she saw Legolas standing just inside the doorway, Miriwen got abruptly to her feet. Deprived of her playmate, the baby began to cry, and Miriwen’s father picked her up and began tickling her under her chin. In the rapid change of mood that only babies can manage, she laughed and ducked her head.

Miriwen stood looking at him gravely. Always before when he had come to this cottage, Legolas had felt at ease, but tonight he felt awkward, and Miriwen looked as if she did too. Neither of them spoke for a moment, and then Miriwen turned toward her mother.

“Naneth,” she said, “I wish to speak to Legolas. Would it be all right if we went into the sitting room?”

“Of course, child,” her mother answered, and Miriwen slid past him into the hall and then into the sitting room. She waited for him to enter the room and then closed the door and stood with her back against it. They looked at one another in silence as they had in the kitchen.

Legolas had come here tonight, resolved to do as Eilian had suggested and talk to Miriwen about his inability to promise anything beyond friendship and his regret over that fact. But beginning the conversation was proving even more difficult than he had imagined it would be. When he did manage to get up the courage to speak, they both talked at once.

"You have not – "

"I am sorry that I have not – "

They stopped. "Go on," he said, relieved to postpone his own explanation.

She drew a deep breath. "You have not been here for three weeks, Legolas. I thought that you had decided that you did not want to be friends any longer."

He was aghast. "No, that is not it at all!" he cried. "Of course, I want to be friends with you. I wish that we could be more than friends."

"Then why have you stayed away so long?" The pain in her voice made him cringe.

"Some of the time, I have had night duty," he offered in explanation.

She nodded. "Yes, Alfirin told me that."

He paused, confused. "Alfirin? When did you talk to Alfirin?"

"This morning," she said. "I took her a gift of my naneth's tea, and we talked then."

"About us?" He was not sure that he liked that idea.

"Yes, about us," said Miriwen defensively. "I have known Alfirin since I was an elfling, and she could see that I was unhappy. Whenn she asked me what was wrong, I told her."

"What did she say?" he asked. He was beginning to feel angry. No, he definitely did not like the idea of Miriwen and Alfirin talking about him behind his back.

"She said that you had had night guard duty, but she also said that if you had not seen me in three weeks, then you had behaved badly." Her chin came up. "But if you do not wish to come and see me, then I certainly do not wish to force you."

"Miriwen, I am very sorry that I have stayed away. I should have spoken to you, but there were reasons that I did not." He had rehearsed his words to her during his walk to the cottage. Surely she was not going to be obstinate and refuse to listen to them?

Now she was fumbling with the clasp on the necklace he had given her. The chain had become tangled in her hair and she was having trouble freeing it. Finally, she tugged hard, and the chain was in her hand, with several strands of hair caught in it. She held it out to him. "I know that your adar did not like seeing me wearing this, Legolas, so I will return it to you."

"Adar? What does Adar have to do with this?" The conversation was sliding out of his control in a nightmare-like fashion.

"He saw the necklace when I was at the palace this morning, and I could see that he was surprised, and not happily so." She offered the necklace to him again.

He tried one last time. "Miriwen, there were reasons that I stayed away. Will you not hear them?"

She paused. "What are they?" she asked coolly.

He bit his lip. "I like you. I want us to be friends. But I cannot be more than friends because, as a warrior, I will be away too much and in too much danger. I wanted to tell you that, but I was afraid that I would hurt you." He stopped and looked at her, hoping that she would somehow understand this perplexing situation and help him to sort it out.

She studied him with narrowed eyes. "You thought that I would be crushed because you were not asking me to marry you?" For some reason that he did not understand, she was shaking in what looked like fury. She flung the little necklace at him, and, startled, he snatched it out of the air.

"You want to be friends," she said through her teeth, "but you would not treat Annael as you have treated me." She opened the door. "Go home, Legolas," she said and disappeared into the kitchen, shutting its door firmly behind her.

He left the cottage with his cheeks burning. It was true that he would not treat Annael as he had treated Miriwen. But then, his relationship with Annael was simple. He had absolutely no desire to kiss Annael. He strode off toward the palace, head down, already aching for Miriwen. "What had Alfirin and Adar said to her?" he wondered angrily.

***

Thranduil knocked lightly on Legolas’s door and then opened it. He was surprised when a quick glance around the tidy room showed him that Legolas was not there. The open door to the bathing chamber showed that it was empty too. Legolas had left the family sitting room an hour or so ago, saying that he was tired and intended to read for a while and then go to bed. Thranduil had not been surprised. A week of night guard duty had been hard on his youngest son. Adult Elves could function with a minimal amount of sleep for a time, but young Elves, whose bodies were still growing, felt its lack sorely.

Thranduil frowned. Where was Legolas? He had intended to speak to him about Miriwen, trying to probe gently as to what the gift of the necklace might mean. For surely the necklace he had seen the maiden wearing this morning must have come from his son. The oak leaf charm was too similar to the brooch Legolas had given him for it to be otherwise, and the symbol itself was closely associated with the royal house. Thranduil left Legolas’s chamber and returned to the sitting room where Ithilden and Alfirin sat nestled together in quiet conversation. Rejoicing in his healing arm and the prospect of a mission, however tame it looked to be, Eilian had gone out to see friends.

"Did Legolas not say he was going to his chamber?" he asked.

Ithilden and Alfirin looked up. "Yes, he did," said Ithilden. "Is he not there?"

"No, he is not," Thranduil frowned. Legolas had always liked being out of the palace at night and at one time had devoted much effort to evading Thranduil's efforts to keep him in. Could he have slipped out tonight? Thranduil supposed that his son was old enough to be out, but he wanted to know where Legolas had gone. And he would not tolerate being lied to.

At that moment, the door to the sitting room burst open and Legolas strode into the room. They all turned, startled by the bang of the door against the wall. He walked toward the bench where Alfirin leaned against Ithilden.

"What did you say to Miriwen?" he asked, angrily. "Did you tell her that I had behaved badly?"

Alfirin straightened up, and Ithilden said menacingly, "Watch your tone of voice, little brother."

"I did say that, Legolas," Alfirin said gently, "and I thought it too. Miriwen was very unhappy."

"You had no right to interfere." Legolas's face was white with fury. He spun around. "Or you either, Adar. I have the right to give her a gift whether you like it or not. But you should be happy because she has given it back." He flung something small on the floor at his father's feet. It was a silver chain with a small oak leaf charm on it. "It is bad enough that Eilian thinks he has to nursemaid me through a novice mission. I had come to terms with that. But this is my private life, and all I ask from the rest of you is that you leave me alone!"

Thranduil had been so startled by this outburst from the normally even-tempered Legolas that he had been rendered temporarily speechless. Now he found his voice. "That is enough!" he hissed. "Go to your chamber and stay there until you have regained the ability to behave with something like common politeness."

"Gladly!" Legolas snapped back, heedless of his father's growing anger. "I would be only too happy to be somewhere where my family is not constantly watching over my shoulder." He was out of the room before Thranduil could reply.

Ithilden rose and started toward the door. "No," said Thranduil. "I will deal with this."

"He cannot be allowed to speak that way to Alfirin," Ithilden said heatedly.

"No, he cannot," agreed Thranduil. "But I will deal with it." He crossed to the table near the fireplace and poured a cup of wine. Surprisingly enough, his hand was steady. He turned to the other two and held up the decanter, offering to pour some for them.

"Are you going to speak to him?" Ithilden demanded, still standing in the middle of the room and ignoring the offer.

"Yes, I am, but he needs a chance to cool down first," said Thranduil, sitting down with his wine. "And so do I."

***

Thranduil paused for a moment outside of Legolas's room, making sure that he was firmly in possession of his temper. He knocked perfunctorily and then opened the door and entered.

Legolas was sprawled in one of the chairs near the fireplace where he had evidently flung himself when he entered the room. On seeing his father, he rose slowly to his feet. The two regarded one another in silence for a moment.

“Are you sufficiently in command of yourself that you can apologize to Alfirin?” Thranduil asked.

“Yes,” said Legolas. At least he had the good grace to look ashamed of himself, Thranduil thought.

“Go and do so, and then come right back here,” Thranduil instructed him. Legolas left while Thranduil sat down and awaited his return. After a few moments, Legolas reentered the room. Thranduil regarded him for a moment and then indicated the other chair, giving permission for him to sit. He waited until his son had sunk unhappily into the chair.

“That was not like you, iôn-nín,” he said neutrally. And indeed, while Legolas could occasionally be impudent, Thranduil had never before seen him rage as he had tonight.

"I am sorry, Adar," Legolas said. "I lost my temper. I never should have spoken to you or to Alfirin the way I did." He rubbed his eyes tiredly and then leaned forward in the chair, with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped between them. He kept his eyes on his hands. His whole posture spoke of deep unhappiness.

Thranduil waited to see if anything else would follow, and when it did not, he began prodding gently. "Legolas, I truly do not wish to intrude in areas that you consider private. But because you are my son, much of what you would wish to be private will never be. I need to know if you have become entangled in something that is going to become a problem."

Legolas gave a pained exclamation, rose, and began to pace the room. "No, Adar, I am not 'entangled.'" He gave the word a vicious emphasis. "I am whatever the opposite of entangled is. She told me to go home." He stopped with his hand on the mantle, staring moodily into the fire and kicking the grate.

Thranduil drew a deep breath. He could not deny that he was relieved, and yet his heart twisted at the sight of his son's pain. "I am sorry," he said. And with an effort, he added, "Perhaps she will feel differently when she has had time to reflect." Legolas said nothing and did not look at his father.

Thranduil studied the face turned to him in profile. Now that he had Legolas in a private conversation, he wanted to ask about other worries too. He had not liked the bruise he had seen on his son's face a week or so ago, and he had liked the night guard duty even less, for it meant that Legolas had been in reasonably serious trouble. Moreover, the resulting exhaustion had surely contributed to tonight's scene. He did not want to interfere in the sphere of the novice masters, but for his own peace of mind, he needed to know at least that Legolas was happy in the training.

"How is the novice training going?" he asked, in what he hoped was a casual voice.

Legolas shrugged. "Well enough," he said.

"Have you run into any problems?" Thranduil persisted.

Legolas turned toward him. "Nothing that I cannot handle on my own," he said, with some emphasis.

Thranduil sighed. "Very well," he said. "But if you need to talk to me, iôn-nín, you know that I am here. In the meantime, I will leave this with you. You may have need of it again." He placed the oak leaf necklace carefully on the table next to his chair and rose to his feet. Legolas stood staring at it, blinking hard. Thranduil sighed again and squeezed his son's shoulder sympathetically before leaving the room.

As he was walking toward his own chamber, he suddenly remembered that Legolas had been visiting Miriwen when he had said that he was going to his chamber. He groaned. He would have to deal with the lie another day. There were only so many filial sins he could cope with at once.

He found himself wishing that his youngest son was still an elfling. His memory told him that elflings were noisy and made terrible messes. But one knew where they were at night, and when they broke their hearts over something that they could not have, an ada’s kiss was usually strong enough medicine to heal them.

***

Eilian moved along the corridor of the family quarters as quietly as he could, for it was late, and he did not wish to awaken anyone. But light spilling from the open sitting room door suggested that someone was still up. He paused in the doorway. Ithilden looked up from the paperwork in which he was evidently engaged at the small desk set against one wall. He was wearing a night robe, but judging from the pile of papers before him, he had been working for some time. He eyed his brother judiciously.

"Do your friends still know how to make merry?" he asked wryly. Some of Eilian's friends were not those that Thranduil would have chosen for him.

Eilian grinned at him. The wine had been good, and he had eventually slipped away for a pleasant walk beneath the stars with a maiden. He felt no need to confide any of this to Ithilden, however. Instead he settled into a chair and asked, "Why are you still awake?"

"As it happens, I wanted to talk to you," Ithliden responded, "but I was also disturbed enough about something that happened earlier that I had trouble sleeping, and Alfirin rather firmly suggested that I might want to get up and stop disturbing her." He smiled fondly, his thoughts plainly back in his own bed.

"What happened?" asked Eilian, smothering an amused grin.

"Legolas lost his temper and stormed at both Adar and Alfirin about their interfering in what he called his private life," Ithilden said.

Eilian blinked at him, his grin gone. "Legolas did that?" he asked in astonishment.

"Yes," Ithilden cocked his head at his brother. "He mentioned you too. He was talking about your going on the trip with the novices. I believe that the word he used was 'nursemaid.'"

Eilian snorted dismissively and then looked mildly alarmed as Ithilden continued to regard him steadily. "Surely you do not believe that I would disrupt a training mission by allowing my feelings as Legolas's brother to affect my actions as his superior officer?" he asked in exasperation. "I hope that I have more sense than that."

"I hope so too," said Ithilden calmly. "But answer me this: If Legolas were not going on this trip, would you still want to go?"

"Yes," Eilian responded promptly, "if only because I am bored by doing nothing useful. I need to get out of the palace before Adar and I start wearing on one another's nerves."

Ithilden nodded, satisfied. "Good," he said. "My understanding is that the novices will be doing exercises on the importance of command and on working as a unit. Your experience as a captain should be useful to them." He rose and stretched. "I think I will see if my lady wife is willing to have me back in our bed again," he said, with a small smile, and the two of them departed to their chambers for what remained of the night.