Chapter 10 - Legolas

"He would have gone further east, Radagast, to nurse his treachery and grow strong. Saruman was never a fool. At this time, he knows we can do little there to reach him." As ever, Thranduil spoke to the wizard alone and not Elessar. Radagast smiled at his old friend and braced for trouble.

Old habits die hard in you, Thranduil. Men are never to be trusted, are they? I suppose I should not blame you completely. You have suffered much at the treachery of men. You lost your father and too many of the children of your realm to the Last Alliance. You hate Isildur as you hate no other man. Still, to paint his descendant and all men not then born with the same brush will ever be one of your few weaknesses. This one here is worth your trust, Thranduil. May I be able to show you that!

The wizard thought of the many years he had known this elf and been his friend and ally. Even with all of that behind him, Radagast could not predict what Thranduil would do on this day.

"I believe you are right in this, Thranduil. I have had word last week from Alatar that there have been small signs of his evil presence. Now that I have alerted them, they are able to read his light and hidden footprints and have set a watch for him. You know that it will not be long before they can tell us at least in general where he is." Radagast reported all this in a cheerful tone, trying to extend the fragile truce in the room. He did not expect to be successful.

Thranduil nodded and looked pleased. Aragorn, however, felt even more confused and frustrated. Who are these beings of whom all but I seem knowledgeable? I have to get control of this kingdom and stand up to Thranduil. His respect must be earned is what Legolas once said. It has to happen now.

"Forgive me, Radagast, but you speak in riddles even more annoyingly than Gandalf. Who sets a watch for Saruman? Would you care to explain? No, I take that back. That was not a request. You will explain after I settle what I must now say." He looked at the wizard and thought he saw a flicker of encouragement in the ancient eyes.

Aragorn turned at the table and faced Thranduil. The grey eyes regarded him without wavering and showed none of his thinking. The elven lord merely waited without speaking, a technique honed over centuries to test the mettle of those he encountered. Aragorn felt the discomfort that he was intended to experience, but he was no coward and Elrond had taught him well on many things.

"My lord Thranduil, I extend you every courtesy of my realm, and I expect the same from you. Pray, talk not across the table to Radagast as if I do not exist. Like me or not, I care not. I am king of Gondor and in my realm I expect courtesy."

Thranduil moved not a muscle, but Aragorn sensed that those of the Fifteen in the room had become instantly more alert. Ohtar stepped directly behind his king, and the trained ears of a Ranger heard behind him the almost silent movements of other elven knives being loosened in scabbards and an arrow or two withdrawn from quivers, yet still held and not nocked. Even Haldir’s hand crept softly to the knife of his father and rested close, his grey eyes on Aragorn and wary. Then, no one moved or even seemed to breathe for a very long moment.

"Ah, the fabled courtesy of Gondor and its king!" Thranduil’s voice was a soft purr filled with menace. "Yes, my son knows well the courtesy of this kingdom. It is now legend among us. Your son Eldarion is healthy?"

"He is well as you know fully." Aragorn felt suddenly how dangerous this game was, and a dark cold grip his heart.

"Such a healthy child! It must be a joy to you to watch him run carelessly and without pain. He sleeps the night without crying out still from pain? No convulsions? He does not at times still vomit blood into the basin you hold for him? How I envy you, Elessar! Shall I claim his health as my wergeld for the harm done my son?"

"Touch my son, and you would die or I would. Know that, Thranduil."

"Adar, please!" Gilúviel stood from his chair and looked at his father, stopping himself only with his years of training from finishing his outcry. This was his king.

"My son?" A dangerous edge had crept into the king’s voice.

"My liege, I beg your indulgence that I may leave this meeting. This boon I ask humbly." Gilúviel bowed his head with respect and stood waiting for the decision. The humble and quiet waiting suddenly disturbed Thranduil and shook his resolve. He remembered another time and pushed the memory quickly away.

"It is granted. I will speak to you later." Gilúviel bowed to his king and to the king of Gondor and left the chamber quietly. As soon as the door closed behind him, he began to run towards the chambers of healing.

*****

"Naneth! Legolas, where is Naneth?" Startled, Legolas looked at his brother and started to answer.

"I am here, my son. What troubles you?" Lalaith turned from the table where she had been arranging roses for Legolas’ pleasure. Her quiet dark son was rarely so visibly upset.

"Naneth, I fear that Adar is about to start a war that we do not want or need. A black mood has come upon him because of the convulsions that he witnessed Legolas endure last night. He seems purposely intent on showing King Elessar such disrespect that he must react. Naneth, when I left he was hinting that, as wergeld, Eldarion should suffer equal pain to Legolas!"

"No, not for my sake! Strider is my friend! I love Eldarion. Naneth, I would die before I would cause this trouble. I cannot bear it." Legolas’ face was anguished. Gilúviel sat and put his strong arms around him, holding him close.

"Ai, Thranduil, my precious love!" Lalaith shook her head sadly. She loved her husband more than life, but she knew the darkness that could descend upon him at rare times without warning. Her eyes sought the faint scar still visible on Gilúviel’s neck, and she shuddered. "You did well to come to me, child. Legolas, this will require that you be brave and endure pain perhaps. Will you do it?"

Without hesitation, Legolas nodded. He thought only of Strider and Eldarion and his father. "What must I do, Naneth?"

"We shall go down to your father and invade his meeting. I know you are not strong enough yet, but it must be done. Mîr will carry you until the door, but then you must walk into the room with only his arm to support you. You alone have the right to shame your father from this folly. You are the one who has borne this pain that torments him more than even it does you. Will you bear this for your friends and your father?"

"I will bear any pain, Naneth, but what words must I say to him? At times, he does not wish to listen."

"He will listen for I shall be beside him. Speak your heart, Legolas. If you believe it, tell him that his enmity must cease. Only words you believe and that come from your heart will move your father, Legolas. Do not plan strategy. Speak your heart, and he will know it. We must go quickly. Mîr, wrap that cloak about your brother and bring those soft shoes for his feet. You must carry him. Are you able?"

"He has the weight of a bird, Naneth. I wish that I could not carry him, but I can easily." He handed her the shoes and helped Legolas to sit up on the bed. Lalaith put the shoes on Legolas’ feet and helped Gilúviel wrap the cloak about his brother and fasten it.

The queen paused a moment with her thoughts and then kissed each son gently. She nodded to Gilúviel, who bent and carefully gathered his brother into his arms. Legolas wearily lay his head in the hollow of his brother’s neck, and felt soft lips kiss him. He could feel Gilúviel’s heart beating more rapidly than normal within his chest, as if he were on the edge of a great battle. Legolas felt his own heart ache under the weight of hatred that had been borne for too long. Hatred that had almost killed him and now must end. Softly, his own lips kissed his brother’s neck. He was ready.

*****

In the Great Wood, two laws ruled above all others: Queen Lalaith was allowed to Thranduil without hindrance or question, and the duty of any warrior was to protect her before even the king or their children.

Whatever his own thoughts at the approach of the queen with one son carrying the other, Thalion of the Fifteen gave no sign as he guarded the door.

He watched as Prince Gilúviel put his brother upon his feet and steadied him. It was the first time Thalion had seen Prince Legolas since their arrival in Minas Tirith, and the sight of the thin figure tore at his soul. The royal family was beloved to all in the Great Wood, but the Fifteen surrendered their very lives to them and for them, and Thalion’s noble heart filled with rage at what had been done to Legolas. Saruman and his filth would pay for this. His face betrayed nothing of this sudden resolve.

"Good Thalion, pray open this door without sound and let us enter. I would see my husband." Lalaith nodded serenely at him. To her people, Lalaith was ever calm and a source of strength. Her own heart’s terrors she had learned well to hide. Softly, Thalion opened the door to his queen and her children.

The sound of loud and angry voices assaulted them at once. Aragorn had totally lost control of his temper, and Legolas saw this with amazement. Strider was almost at Thranduil’s throat. Only Radagast’s strong old arms holding him had restrained his forward rush. Ohtar’s arrow was trained upon the king of Gondor’s head and would not miss if the human came one step closer to his king.

At the risk of his own life and future, Haldir had dared to restrain his liege. Thranduil was far stronger than he, and Haldir knew that once his sheer surprise at Haldir’s actions passed the king would throw him violently against the wall, if he was lucky. If his luck failed, he would go through the open window and die on the courtyard far below. Haldir thought of his brothers and held on grimly for their sakes. Still, Celeborn would give him an honorable burial at least. Then, Doriath’s prince would go to war with Thranduil. Saruman was definitely winning this round thought Haldir! He felt Thranduil’s strong muscles gathering beneath his encircling arms and closed his eyes, breathing a prayer to Eru as he tried to hold the king tighter.

"My lord, I beg your permission to speak at a meeting that concerns me." Legolas’ voice was weak still and quiet, but somehow it cut through the chaos before him and stopped it. Thranduil threw Haldir off, but more softly than the Galadhrim had ever dared hope. He only hit the floor and bounced once. The king whirled and stared at his blond son before him.

"Legolas, you should be in bed! How dare you endanger your brother in this way, Mîr-Gilúviel? You shall answer for your actions."

"Nay, my lord, the action was mine alone. Had Mîr not carried me here, I would have dragged myself on my belly to reach this place. He knew this and chose the lesser evil I presented him. He but carried me. I am the one who chose to come here." Legolas leaned heavily on his brother’s arm, but his posture was erect and his head held proudly as a prince of the Woodland Realm. Thranduil saw the unsteadiness in the weakened legs and waved him to a nearby couch. Legolas ignored the unspoken order to sit. His boon had not yet been granted.

"My lord and my king, I repeat my request to speak at this meeting that concerns me."

"Permission is granted. Let us all resume our seats." Thranduil saw his queen come quietly and take the seat of Haldir beside him. Her hand lay gentle on his arm, and he breathed in more quietly at her smile. Lalaith kept her hand on his arm as they sat.

Haldir drew a more comfortable chair to the table and helped Gilúviel settle Legolas into it. As a healer, his whole being cried out against the prince’s presence in this room; the warrior in him knew that it was their only hope. He sat beside Legolas and kept watchful eyes on him for signs of physical distress.

Gilúviel took the other place beside Legolas and beckoned the king of Gondor to join them. Two elven princes sat with a human king to confront the wrath of Thranduil.

"My lord, I pray you hear me without interruption. My strength is still not as I would have it, and there is much that I would say before it fail me." Legolas spoke softly and looked at his father’s face. Thranduil found it difficult to meet the gentle eyes of his son.

"Your king will hear you, but only if you address him by the one title he values most. I am your adar, Legolas, before I am your king. Never forget that."

"I do not, Adar, for to be your son was ever my greatest gift. I may speak, then, as your son?" Thranduil nodded, and saw Legolas draw a deep and steadying breath. He was obviously in pain, but Thranduil knew stubborn determination when faced with it. He saw himself once again in his son. Legolas would speak. Thranduil could not stop him, and accepted the words that would come before they were even spoken.

"Adar, I know that you are troubled by what you beheld last night. I am healing, but the poison has not yet completely left my body. This is what caused the convulsions and made me frighten you with such an effusion of blood. I should have warned you that this might happen, and I ask your forgiveness that I did not. My joy at your arrival drove all else from my head. I know you were afraid for me, but Radagast tells me it is a good thing that this happens at times. It is how I rid myself of the last of the physical evil that Saruman has placed within me. Forgive me, Adar, that I did not warn you?" Thranduil nodded and saw the relief in both his sons’ eyes. Later, he would question them closely as to what else they might have "forgotten" to tell their father. Now, he remained silent and listened to Legolas.

"Adar, the hatred must end. Curunír’s worst poison is not what lingers in my body. It is the hatred he seeks to sow between races that have long been at least reluctant allies." Legolas dared not use the word "friends" to describe the alliance of elves and men that had cost Thranduil a bitter price, the bitterest of all the elven lords who had ever trusted men. His father and most of his warriors. To Thranduil, the name of Isildur was yet his most profane curse.

"Whatever you feel personally, Adar, you are too wise to let this wounded serpent further deceive you." Legolas lifted his head and looked directly into his father’s eyes.

Beneath the table, Aragorn saw Gilúviel reach across and take his brother’s hand. None else at the table were aware of the gesture, but it strengthened Legolas and gave him courage as he held the strong fingers tightly.

Mîr would stand with me before Morgoth himself! He is my brother and my strength when my own is gone, and he will not fail me.

"I have borne the injury that stirs your wrath, Adar. For months now, I have borne the pain. I heard the call from Námo and went to answer it until Radagast pulled me back. By the customs and laws of our people, is it not my right to claim recompense for it and not yours? Only my death would give the right to you, Adar? Is this correct?" 

Thranduil watched his son and wondered at this strange question, but he answered truthfully, "You are correct, my son. Ask what you will of this human after his treachery. Celeborn and I and our armies to the last warrior will support you and see your claimed justice done.From Elladan and Elrohir, I have also had word this morning that Imladris is with us. If we send word, all the elves remaining in this accursed abode of mortals will come. If you will it, we will raze this city."

In his chair, Aragorn sat in desperate silence. This morning, Faramir had told him that a messenger from Imladris had ridden wildly through the city gates and been taken straight to Thranduil’s presence. Now, the king knew why.

Elladan! Elrohir! You are my brothers. You helped raise me and kept me always from harm. What madness has come that now we would take up arms against each other? Do you no longer remember the love you had for the small child brought to Imladris for safety? You are my brothers. I have always loved you.

Gilúviel saw the torment in the young king’s eyes and pitied him and his elven brothers. What would his own torment be if he were ever forced to take arms against one of his own brothers? Against Aldamir or Erelas or Legolas? Would he not defy the Valar and take his own life first? He tightened his fingers around those of Legolas and mourned at the evil that had come upon them all.

"Adar, I wish no harm to come to this city or its people. The ignorance of the poorest of its people and their vulnerability to Saruman’s wiles does not merit death. I fought not too long ago to keep them safe. If he agree, I will ask two things of the king of Gondor. If he grant them, I will account his debt absolved, and ask you to honor this settlement. Elessar Telcontar, will you grant me my wergeld?"

Aragorn looked at the one who had walked the long miles by his side to the very Paths of the Dead.

"I will grant what you ask, Legolas Thranduilion."

Raising his head, Legolas steadied his voice and spoke softly, "First, I would claim Eldarion."

Aragorn started to rise in anger, but something in the elf’s eyes held him still.

"I would claim Eldarion as my child as well as yours. I would ask you to let me share in his raising and teach him what it means to be an elf, so that he may one day continue to teach his people as you will. I would have the next king of Gondor never forget that the First Born are also his people and have love for him and his country that he must rule. Elves have given up their immortality and died for Gondor and already this land begins to forget. This must change, King Elessar."

Legolas smiled at Aragorn to take some of the sharpness from his words, and the king felt his fear leave him. He acknowledged that there was much work to do, but here was a friend who would help him and Eldarion.

"I give you the part of my son’s heart that you already own, Legolas. He shall be yours as much as mine and Arwen’s and in Ithilien and here he shall learn what it is to be an elf."

"For the greatest gift of my life, I thank you, King Elessar. Adar, Eldarion is now my son and your grandchild. Protect him for me and love him?"

Thranduil’s eyes met those of his son, and he nodded. On his arm, he felt Lalaith’s fingers tighten in approval. "My son, you said that there were two things you would ask?"

"The second I ask of two kings, Adar. I ask that they both rise and greet one another in peace, so that we may begin anew and fight the real enemy together. Will these kings grant the wish of a mere prince?"

To the amazement of all, Thranduil was the first to rise. He came to Aragorn and extended his hand to the king of Gondor, a human. The significance of this proud king coming to Aragorn was not lost on any elf in the room.

Radagast smiled in secret delight. He thought to himself that, if any of the Fifteen present had ever been prone to lose control of their expressions, this would have been the moment. Look at that training! Centuries of it! Not a single muscle in any face has flickered from the impassive control that was ever on their faces. And, Legolas! Ah, Lalaith! Thy son also has magic if he can move these two stubborn kings together. You have done well in his raising.

Aragorn clasped the elven lord’s arm in a warrior’s handshake. He was surprised at the raw strength of the hand of Thranduil that grasped his own arm. That hand had held Sauron at bay for more years than the young king had yet lived. Aragorn’s eyes met those of the elf and saw the first signs of respect there.

"Well, now that we have settled this unpleasant rift, perhaps we should move on to the report that Haldir has brought us?" Radagast’s ever cheerful voice broke the tension for a moment. The moment lasted long enough for Legolas to suddenly turn paler and faint.

*****

"Radagast, I am fine! I merely fainted from the exertion of walking! If you pour one more of those vile-tasting potions into my stomach right now, I shall lose all that have gone before and probably all over your robes."

"Was that a threat, young elf? It is not wise to threaten the wizard who has you in his care." Radagast advanced towards the bed, the medicine cup held out before him.

Legolas glared at the Istar, and his face grew more mutinous. His stomach was really churning and out of the corner of his eye he saw Gilúviel bend to pull a basin from beneath the bed.

"Radagast?" Gilúviel’s voice was too innocent sounding. Legolas eyed his brother suspiciously but could not say anything. He was too busy keeping his lips firmly clasped against the vile concoction over which his stomach rebelled.

"Yes, Mîr?"

The dark eyes looked at the wizard with great respect and deference. This was the expression that had kept Gilúviel out of trouble growing up with his brother and cousin, even on the rare occasions that he was just as guilty as they were. "Perhaps three doses of your wonderful herb tonic might be enough for now? I think part of the problem may be that Legolas has had nothing to eat since morning. Would that be a cause of fainting, Radagast?"

"Not eaten! No wonder he fainted. You know he is supposed to eat every two hours." The wizard showed every sign of extended fussing and fretting, so Gilúviel interrupted quickly.

"Yes, Radagast, we know that, but there was a little urgency about our departure for the meeting. Naneth did seem to think that Adar might suddenly make the newest king of Gondor have a very short reign. Perhaps, you could see Rosie and tell her just what Legolas needs to eat right now? He looks very much to me as if he should eat directly. I do not like his color at all. Leave the cup with the medicine to me. I shall take care of that matter for you."

The good-hearted wizard bustled off at this, leaving the medicine cup behind on the table. When he was safely out of sight, Gilúviel emptied the cup out the window.

"You swallowed that one, brother, and do not get me into trouble with the wizard by denying it. After all, you would not want a frog for a brother, would you? Are you alright?" Gilúviel sat on the bed and touched his brother’s pale and tired face softly as he helped him to lie back against the pillows.

"Just tired, and my stomach does feel as if it wants to betray me. I hate being like this, Mîr! I hate being weak."

"You are not weak. If you were weak, we would have buried you last month. It will take time, Legolas. You were almost taken from me, and I will not lose you now. You must be patient with us if we worry. It is only because of our love." He continued to stroke Legolas’ hair and smiled as the rebellion faded from the blue eyes.

"I know. I did not mean to be unpleasant to Radagast. I will apologize. Mîr, is there nothing I can do to help? I see you and Rúmil and Orophin all getting ready for this fight, and here lies Legolas the Useless."

"A new title? I care not for it, dear brother. You cannot ride, and you cannot use your bow, that is true. But, you can still use your greatest weapon just as you did today in preventing the first war of elves and men."

Seeing the confusion in his brother’s eyes, Gilúviel smiled and tapped the forehead he had just been stroking. "Legolas, has Adar not taught us that our most valuable weapon is always our mind? I have brought the reports that were discussed after you left. Read them in the morning and tomorrow afternoon you shall help me figure out what to do about the intrigue among the humans here in Gondor. That is the task that Adar sets your poor brother. He has need of your mind and your help. Will you give it?"

Two thin arms found their way around Gilúviel’s neck then, and Legolas embraced his brother without further words. All their lives they had been so close as to seldom need words between them. Gently, Gilúviel lay his brother down again, but kept hold of his hand.

"Mîr?"

"Yes, Legolas?"

"Radagast will bring back pudding. He had that cursed pudding look in his eye as he left. I feel this in my bones. My courtesy to him having failed, I will have no choice but to eat it."

Gilúviel began to laugh at the long-suffering look on his brother’s face at the idea of pudding, and he could not stop. Legolas had faced down death and Thranduil, and now he worried that he must eat pudding! 

Mildly outraged at first at his brother’s reaction, Legolas suddenly saw the humor, and he too began to laugh. Radagast returned to find them gasping and clinging to one another. He looked even more puzzled as he set the delicious pudding he carried down, and this produced yet another fit of laughter from the two brothers.

"Well, my dears, laughter is an excellent tonic, but you must get a little food into you, Legolas. Rosie is fixing you something extra special, and I have brought you a nice pudding to hold you until it is done."

"I am sorry for my disrespect before, Radagast. I will eat your pudding to make you happy." Legolas knew his duty, but his face was miserable at the prospect. The wizard gave him a pleased look that was some reward but not quite enough.

"You are tired, brother, let me help by feeding it to you. Would that be alright, Radagast?" Legolas started to protest that he was not helpless when an almost imperceptible shake of his brother’s head stopped him. Gilúviel suddenly reminded Legolas of their cousin. He had the exact same absorbed expression Daeron got when calculating if the risk of the combined wrath of their older brothers was worth the satisfaction he, Legolas and Gilúviel would derive if they succeeded in playing a trick on the old ones. Legolas smiled and kept silent.

The wizard nodded in a preoccupied way and set to work again on the herbs he had been preparing earlier. Gilúviel sat down carefully so that his body blocked Legolas from his healer’s view. It was an enormous bowl of pudding, and Gilúviel had seen his brother looking at it with loathing. Quickly, he ate two spoons of it himself and fed only the third one to Legolas, and thus they continued until the bowl was empty and the wizard content.

*****

"Lalaith, he is a dwarf." The queen smiled at her husband serenely and continued stitching on the new gown she was embroidering for Legolas.

"Yes, my love, he is a dwarf. And, he is a very sweet one at that."

"Lalaith, dwarves are not sweet. Just ask anyone who was at Doriath."

Thranduil placed the goblet of wine on the small table near his wife and sat down across from her holding his own. Thranduil always said the best and only rest his eyes needed was to look upon his wife’s face. He tasted the wine and savored it. Darwinion. Celeborn had sent it. Thranduil appreciated again his most excellent friend. The wine in Gondor was not to his exacting taste.

"Yes, Doriath does present a problem in considering dwarves. I do admit that. Still, Gimli was a mere babe I am sure, and I believe it may not have been even his. . .Thranduil, what does one call a kin group of dwarves exactly?"

"Warg pack?" The answer almost startled her, until she saw the wicked gleam in his eyes. She laughed and threw a small pillow at his head. He caught it easily, without even making the wine in his cup move.

"Fie, Thranduil! Gimli is certainly no warg!"

"How can you tell, wife, with all that beard and bushy hair?" Lalaith and Celeborn were the only two left on Arda whom Thranduil still teased. There had been others once, in happier days.

Aldamir and Tarondor had been the others, his brothers in all but blood. So many years gone since they died. Still the king’s heart bled as freshly as it had on the two separate times that he had faced the death of a childhood friend from Doriath.

Aldamir was the father of Mîr and for him Thranduil had named his first child. He remembered the laughter they had all shared as the tiny baby had been named and blessed by the family. Aldamir had joked in a loud voice with Tarondor that he hoped that the newborn would grow up to be not as ugly as Thranduil and then both had run from the king’s mock wrath.

Tarondor was the father of Seregon and Daeron, his nephews, and the older brother of Lalaith. For him, Thranduil had put aside his own grief to comfort Lalaith and Tarondor’s wife and sons. Those two elves had been as brothers to Thranduil, and he would never cease mourning their loss. They lived in the deep places in his heart that only Lalaith was allowed to see.

Thranduil sighed and put aside his sad thoughts to continue to attend his wife. Lalaith had been so frightened during the journey to Gondor. Never had his beautiful one shown fear to him before. It had maddened him that he was so helpless to drive that fear from her eyes; he who had pledged always to keep her safe had felt so helpless. It had made him lust for revenge on the realm of Gondor for the hurt to his son and the fear of his wife.

The anger had simmered and bubbled over today after a night of holding Legolas and seeing just a small part of the pain he had endured. Thranduil cringed to think that he had implied a threat to Eldarion. Thranduil had a heart as soft as down when it came to the young of any creature. He could not even kill a doe if he saw her fawn next to her, and now he had threatened hurt to a child? That he would never do it did not matter. He had made the threat to the child’s father.

And, today you frightened her again! Thranduil, you are a fool, and Oropher was right. Adar said the only thing that could ever beat me in battle was my own temper, that could make me lash out blindly and without thought. Still, she says nothing to reproach me, and talks instead of dwarves.

No, a dwarf. Gimli the Dwarf. Son of Glóin, of all cursed dwarves on Arda. Gimli, Son of Glóin. Best friend of Legolas Thranduilion. My son. What is Arda come to if dwarves and elves are best friends? And, Lalaith wants to invite this dwarf to a gathering here in our private chambers? Ai, Valar! I can hear Oropher grumbling in Mandos at the very idea!

"I can tell, my husband, because I have taken the trouble to speak to this warg as you name him. And, Mîr has told me of the constant care he gave to both our sons these last months. How he sat with Legolas so that Mîr could sleep a few hours. He was the only one Mîr trusted enough to take rest while Gimli watched."

"I have sat with Legolas for each night that we have been here, and never once have I seen this dwarf."

"Because, indeed, you sat with Legolas. Gimli is well aware of your contempt for his race and the ill will between yourself and his father. He comes during the day, while I am there, and makes excuse to Legolas, so that he will not be hurt that you would not welcome his friend. How long do you think it will be before Legolas makes note of these kind lies? He does not notice yet because his joy in just being with you drives all from his mind, but soon the thought will bring him more pain."

Thranduil placed his goblet on the table and rose and walked over to where his wife sat. Gracefully, he knelt and took both her hands in his large ones, enfolding them softly and kissing them.

"I behaved badly today, Lalaith, and you have not reproached me with a single word or look. I threatened a child! The damage I could have done was beyond belief, and still you say none of the cutting words that I so well earned. What have I done to deserve you?"

"You were born Thranduil, the greatest elf that ever lived and the only one that I could love. I loved you from when I was a child, and I first laid eyes upon you, husband. Do you not remember the tiny elf always peering at you from behind the safety of her brother Tarondor or my naneth’s skirts?"

"I remember well the child who made me laugh and forget war. How I envied Tarondor when you would creep into his lap and fall asleep as our boring talks droned on through the evening. I remember always how his strong fingers would play with your curls and how much he loved you. I missed you, Lalaith, when they sent you away from the Great Wood for safety. When you returned from Lórien, your beauty took my breath from my body, and I wanted only you." Thranduil’s voice grew softer and his kisses on her hands more gentle.

"If you were attracted to me, you certainly hid that well, my Lalaith. Was it not two years that you made me court you before you would even consent to let me take you to the Solstice festival?"

"Well, you were very arrogant, Thranduil, and so sure that no elleth could resist your charms. You know what I am with a challenge! I had to prove to you that at least one elleth could resist that golden hair and those broad shoulders. Besides, did the kiss not taste sweeter when you finally got it?"

He raised her hands to his lips and kissed them again with growing passion. "No wine nor honey could ever be sweeter, Lalaith." Thranduil sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning his head against her knees. He closed his eyes at the feel of his wife’s fingers playing with his hair. "So, you want to give a party for a dwarf in our chambers?"

"I think it would be a nice gesture if you approve?"

"I suppose those odd little furry ones will also be on the guest list?"

"The hobbits? Yes, I am sure we must have all the hobbits. Lovely creatures, hobbits. Thranduil, they live not all that far from our realm, and I knew nothing of them!"

"A dwarf and all the hobbits. A few humans, no doubt?"

"I thought Aragorn and Arwen with Eldarion. Also, I thought Sulka and her son Gurth, since they shared so much time with Legolas. And Faramir and Éowyn and that lovely man Girion, the one who is Arngrein’s captain. Of course, Arngrein himself. He and Ohtar have become such friends. Ohtar must come, so I shall schedule this on one of his nights off duty."

"Ah, Ohtar will come! You will actually include elves on your guest list, my darling?"

"Certainly elves, Thranduil! What strange ideas you have. All of our youngest together except Daeron. Do you remember the last party we had with Legolas, Mîr, Orophin and Rúmil all at home at one time?" Lalaith’s face softened at the memory of her brood gathered together.

"I seem to remember that it was for Daeron’s begetting day, and our four young hounds of Sauron thought it would be quite funny to hide spiders in Daeron’s first gift. Legolas’ or Rúmil’s creative thinking I am sure." Suddenly, Thranduil laughed. His nephew was one of the bravest elves he knew except for one thing. He was terrified of spiders.

Thranduil had never seen an elf leap as high as Daeron when he opened his first present. The fact that Legolas had also "accidently" dropped the bag with the remaining spiders at just that moment had made this one of the events still talked of at the palace.

Aldamir, Erelas, and Haldir had spent over an hour hunting the fugitive spiders their younger brothers had loosed, while Thranduil and Daeron’s brother Seregon had tried unsuccessfully to convince the novice warrior to come down off his refuge on the ledge over the great fireplace.

Thranduil could still almost hear the shrill screaming of that annoying elleth Miriel, who had done nothing to help the whole situation. At least Isilya had swatted at the spiders with her dancing slippers and shouted encouragement to Daeron, but then she was Ohtar’s daughter and had a warrior heart of her own. He smiled at the memory of the chaotic night.

"Well, my darling Lalaith, if you want to have a party for a dwarf and these furry hobbits and humans and our own elves, I shall be charming to all, even the dwarf. You have my word on this, wife. All I want is your happiness on this matter."

Her brilliant smile was all that Thranduil sought. The fact that she became even more interested in his golden hair and then announced she was tired and ready for bed was just a side benefit he told himself.

Gallantly, he took her into his arms and carried her towards their bedchamber. As he was kissing her neck, he suddenly remembered poor Daeron’s screams as he had finally retired to his room after his party. Spiders. Beneath his blankets.

Thranduil made a mental note to check before he slid beneath his own sheets. After all, Legolas was the son of Lalaith. . .

*****

"Sulka, are you sure of what you say and that you wish to do this?" Haldir looked at the woman. He believed her, but his heart misgave him at the danger she faced. "He is your husband and Gurth’s father," said Haldir so softly that she drew closer to hear him. The softness male elven voices often had was something to which she could not yet become accustomed. The males in her life had ever been loud and harsh. It was the women she had learned that were quiet. It was easier to survive in her world if the men did not always hear you.

"If Adros is Gurth’s father, it is through no choice of mine. I was given to him at the age of thirteen in payment of debt my father owed him. I am fortunate that my father could at least insist on a marriage, so that Gurth bears no stain upon his birth."

"Your father gave you as payment of a debt?" The horror in the elf’s voice surprised Sulka. It was common among the poor. Adros had coveted her, and she had despised him as her father well knew. Still, the debt was due, and there was no money. Her father had been beaten and robbed of the payment. Adros demanded the workshop and his tools or the hand of his daughter. Without the workshop, the rest of her family would starve. Sulka had made the choice for her distraught father. The old man’s heart had broken as he demanded at least marriage for his favorite child.

"It was necessary, Haldir. My father did not force me. But, six others would have starved had I not agreed to the marriage. It is the past. Do not let it trouble you. It seems that this is not the way among elves?" She was curious. Each day now she discovered that things she thought were always done were different among the other races of Arda.

"No, it is not our way, but I do not judge if you do not. As you say, it is the past." He shrugged and took the bread and cheese she handed him. They were seated not far from the elves’ barrack where she had found him. It was private here, and no one could overhear. They could keep their eyes on Gurth and Eldarion, but still let the boys play on their own. It had become the custom of the elf and the woman to meet for lunch and to talk.

Haldir was teaching Gurth to read and write now. Sulka’s gratitude at the chance for her son had been so great that it overcame her pride at taking Haldir’s offered gift. Still, to be indebted was not easy for her to bear, and the elf had sensed this. So, Haldir allowed her to bring him lunch. It soothed the pride in her that he had discovered was as great as his own. He told her that her cooking was sufficient payment for someone who had spent so many years eating warrior’s fare.

"What of Gurth?" Haldir looked at her with curiosity. She was the first human with whom he had ever really let himself speak. She surprised him often and made him think. Except for Gilúviel’s wife, Haldir hated humans or was, at best, indifferent to them. Except Sulka and Gurth. Haldir o Lórien knew three humans now. This disturbed him. His world was no longer so comfortably clear.

"He was the one who first overheard his father. He came to me in secret and spoke of his fears. Gurth loves Legolas and Gilúviel. But, most of all you, Haldir. He has no love for his father."

The elf made no sign that her words disturbed him. Gurth was a human child. He was nothing to Haldir except one he had healed by the grace of the Valar and with Radagast’s assistance. He was nothing to Haldir. The elf repeated that thought to himself often.

"Sulka, he is young. He thinks now he cares not for his father. Still, to betray a father is not something lightly done. Such deeds have ruined men and elves in the past."

She all but spat on the ground in her sudden rage. "A father? He has beaten Gurth from the time he could stand. He has made him watch as I was beaten. He has denied him food to fill his own stomach. He has denied him learning and knowledge and the company of other children. Eldarion is the first friend my son has been allowed to have. Watching him laugh and play delights me for I have never before seen it. And, my daughter? In a few more years, Adros will sell her to the highest bidder. He will not bother to ask for marriage for her. Do not call this one the father of my children, Haldir! Gurth and my daughter have received more kindness from you and the other elves in the last few months than ever they received from Adros in all the years of their young lives. We will repay our debt, Gurth and I. We will help the elves."

She was shaking and near to tears, and she was something he had never known before in his long life. Haldir looked at her face and forgot more of his hatred. Gently, he put a strong arm around her and drew her close.

"I will take you to King Thranduil. I will protect Gurth and Ilika. . .and you, Sulka. None shall harm you. Do not fear." Haldir o Lórien softly kissed the cheek of Sulka of Gondor and held her close against his side.