He was a child.
Anger clenched his jaw, anger at himself for his weakness. Had he not put these feelings behind him? Had he not vowed to accept the truth for what it was? The only family Legolas had, apart from Amareth, were his friends, the Company – Ram en and Idhreno.
He breathed deeply and rolled onto one side, turning his back on the room and facing the green-lined window.
A warrior, a servant of the king. That was his purpose, to serve some purpose – to mean something – to someone.
A frown flickered over his features for he had never thought of it that way before, that his obsession with being a warrior had something to do with feeling worthy. Amareth had loved him as a mother, and if he added to that the amount of adoptive uncles he had in the village – nay, it was not for lack of love and it was not for shame for having no father.
There was something else, something he had never understood, as if a part of him were missing; as if his purpose was still veiled from him, however much it drove him relentlessly upon his path.
All he could conclude was that becoming a warrior was an innate necessity, but he now started to suspect that it was not the end of the road, simply a necessary step towards a bigger thing, something that escaped him, like river rain through open fingers. What more could he aspire to than being captain?
Turning onto his back now, the first stirrings of his comrades brought his mind further into focus, and the lingering self-pity and confusion began to fade, not away but behind his mask that was rapidly falling into place. There would be no proud parents to smile and nod at him as he took his vows and that was a fact, one he must now accept with quiet dignity. Instead he would bask in his friendship with Ram en and Idhreno, in the camaraderie with his newfound friends, and in the hope that family could be replaced with these his brothers, his fellow warriors.
Yes, that is what he would do, he resolved with a smile. It did not matter that he had no father to squeeze his shoulder in pride, it did not matter at all.
….
.
Turion watched as Lainion straightened his tunic and breathed deeply. The avari was nervous and that was not like him at all. Not even during those endless seconds before a battle had Turion seen him nervous.
It was a testimony to the risk they were both taking by speaking with Handir on the matter of the Silvan. Should the prince not like what they had to tell him, he could well run to his father and reveal all. They would both, surely, be punished and banished.
The fact was they had no choice in the matter at all. Logic and sound reasoning had brought them to this moment now, at the doors of Prince Handir's personal office.
Turion nodded once and Lainion returned it, straightening his tunic once more, before knocking upon the hard wood and then disappearing from sight.
This was it. Turion would not leave lest he be needed elsewhere, and so he sat outside the door and trained his ears to the sounds beyond. Not that he could hear anything but should the meeting go ill and voices be raised, he would be alerted…
….
"Lainion! So good to see you, brother. You have been busy with the new recruits I hear?"
"Aye, the barracks have been eventful of late, I cannot deny that."
"Well, what brings you here? Is there some business to discuss, or are we free to wander outside?" asked Handir with a smile.
Lainion realized just how much his former charge had changed, matured so quickly into what seemed now to be an experienced man of state. It had been ten years since he had no longer been needed as a personal guard and Thranduil had reassigned him to his current post. The boy had grown, his mind sharpened, no longer so naïve, subjugated to the will of his firey brother or his cold, blank father.
"Both, truth be told, but there I nothing to stop us from speaking outside, indeed I would prefer it," said Lainion. It made sense of course, for what he had to say could not be overheard by anyone, and Turion would make sure they were not spied upon in the woods.
"Then come, we walk and we talk" said Handir. "It has been so long since I enjoyed such a simple moment of pleasure."
"I hear you passed the grade for councilor – well done, brother," he smiled, watching as the boy's face lit up with pride at his words. He had changed, but he was still young, still needy of approval and encouragement …
"I did!" grinned the youngest prince. "I am now, officially, Lord Aradan's apprentice!" he said theatrically, making Lainion smile.
"You deserve it, Handir. You have worked hard, I am proud," he trailed off, his eyes shining with pride, for in truth Lainion had created a close relationship with his former charge.
Handir looked at Lainion for a long while, as if he were unsure of what to say, his eyes shining with emotions the avari could only guess at and he thought, perhaps, that no one else had said that to him, had not told him they were proud.
"Come, into the woods with your brother, councilor, for we have much to discuss!"
And so, with a smile, one rueful and the other a little tight, they both left the fortress, chatting about what they had both missed in their lives. Indeed an hour had passed and now, they sat quietly upon the banks of a slow stream amidst a shady glade. It was time, thought Lainion to himself, it was time to change the boy's life forever, and however much he tried, he failed to slow his thumping heart …
"What is it, Lainion? I can tell there is something you have left unsaid. Are you leaving? Is that what you have come to tell me?" asked the prince quietly.
"No, no it is not that, Handir, but you are right, there is something of great import I must speak to you about."
"What you could possibly tell me that would matter more to me than that?"
Lainion smiled sadly. This was proving much more difficult than he had imagined.
"Before I tell you, I must place a condition on this conversation, Handir. I need you to make an honor-bound oath to not disclose what I am about to tell you to anyone, not even your king."
Handir scowled and then looked to the floor, his young but avid mind clearly weighing the pros and cons of such an act, for an honor-bound oath was no simple promise, it was something he would die for, before he could disclose the contents. Handir would not accept lightly and Lainion was glad of it.
"I will not betray my King, Lainion, this you know."
"I do know, but consider this. The information must be kept from him for the moment only, until the time is right, and the reasons are purely for his own protection. Does that make sense to you?" asked Lainion.
"Yes," he answered carefully. "But the nature of the information you give me – I may see danger in not telling the king – if that is the case…"
"No, no. It is not a matter related to defense, or the enemy. It is not about internal intrigues or anything I believe to be detrimental to the realm, Handir, I would not ask that of you."
"Alright," he said slowly.
"Handir, trust me. I take full responsibility for my actions. I ask only that you help me, help us. I have the king's best interests at heart, I swear."
"I know you are a kingsman, Lainion. My father holds you in high esteem. I do trust you…"
"Good."
"You have my honor-bound oath to not speak of what you are about to disclose to any other than to you."
Lainion bowed his head in respect for the trust the young prince placed in him, and he had meant what he said. The responsibility would be his alone to bear.
"Handir, you have a brother…"
The prince laughed. "Do I? He's more of a frozen stalagmite if you…"
"Handir," he interrupted, before pausing, making sure the prince was listening before he spoke once more. "Handir, you have a Silvan brother – one you have never met…"
Lainion's explanation was met with blank silence, but there was nothing more he could say to make the prince understand. Indeed he had understood, only the information had been so utterly shocking to him he had yet to react.
"Handir…"
"Does he know?" was the prince's sudden question, curt and cold. "Does my father know?"
Lainion closed his eyes for a moment, for what to say? It was complicated and it had never been his intention to create an even greater distance between Thranduil and his children, albeit that had been inevitable from the start.
"He knew only of his conception…."
"He knew," repeated Handir flatly and Lainion could read the growing coldness in his eyes.
"I doubt he knew of the child's fate, Handir. It is a complex story, one you should hear from your father."
"He will tell me," continued Handir, his voice still, unnervingly monotonous. "He will tell me or he will lose me…"
"Handir," said Lainion, touching the boy's forearm to anchor him, to draw his attention back to wherever it had strayed.
"Listen carefully, my friend, for what I have to tell you is of the utmost importance," he began, watching Handir's face carefully for signs of understanding.
"Handir…"
"Yes…"
"Your brother – your brother is young, a fledgling warrior – the best I have ever seen. I tell you this because I do not want him to suffer the consequences of this information falling into the wrong hands, or falling into the right ones at the wrong time. He does not deserve to see his dreams dashed – he is at no fault…"
Handir's head whipped to Lainion and the avari resisted the urge to step backwards, for in his sky blue eyes there was a fire that burned so brightly it reminded the avari – of Legolas.
"And you tell me this – now – because?"
"Because until one month ago, he lived in his village, in the deep forest, where only his remaining family and friends knew and loved him. Now, as he becomes a warrior he has – drawn attention to himself. I know it is a simple matter of time that your father and your siblings hear of him, and when you see him, there will be no doubts in your minds. I seek only to protect the king, protect you, Handir, for well you know there are those in the Greenwood that would use these circumstances to their own ends, their own greed for power.
Lainion's slanted eyes continued to study Handir's face. The fire had abated somewhat, and his stare had turned to the side, a sure sign that he was, finally, reasoning out the barrage of information Lainion had hit him with.
"What do you suggest we do, Lainion," said the prince, a hint of sadness now tingeing his words.
"I need you, Handir, to keep me informed of any references, of the slightest hint, joke, comment or otherwise, regarding the one they call The Silvan. We must correctly judge the time to tell the king of what we have found in the forest… he cannot be left to find out for himself."
Handir looked at Lainion once more and the fire was back. "I have not a care for my father's feelings, Lainion, he leaves me – indifferent," he stressed, before turning his back on his former guard.
"I do not believe you mean that, Handir…"
The prince span on his heel, so suddenly Lainion stepped backwards as the fine cloth of the boy's robes fanned around him, his dark blond hair falling back into place moments later but his face, his handsome serene face was now twisted into a snarl Lainion had never seen him wear.
"Oh but I do, Lieutenant Lainion. I do mean what I say. He is responsible for the departure of my mother, he pierced her soul, ripped it apart so badly she abandoned her children. He forsook her and his own legitimate children for the sake of some Silvan slut, with whom he dared conceive a child…"
"Handir," called Lainion, holding up a hand to stop the tirade that now flew from the prince' mouth.
"That is why he never explained anything to us, for shame," he spat, "for shame and cowardice for he would surely know we could never condone such an act – he gave her a child!"
Lainion wisely waited for the storm to blow over before attempting to speak once more and when he did, it was calm and slow.
"Handir. I ask only that you consider this… we do not know the circumstances, we cannot know until the king decides to speak of it and well I know he never has. I knew your father since before he was king, still a crown prince, your own age. Do not judge him rashly, Handir. You are the wisest of your siblings, the most capable of rational thought – do not let your heart run away with your mind…"
Handir turned slowly so that his back was to Lainion once more.
"Leave me, Lainion."
"Handir, you cannot…"
"You have wrenched from me an honor-bound oath. I will say nothing for the moment…"
"Will you…"
"Yes – I will inform you should I hear anything that may alert my fa.. , my king or Rinion."
Lainion bowed to Handir's back, his heart heavy now with the onus he had placed on the prince's young shoulders. He wanted to take the boy into his arms and hug him, hold his head close to his chest and assure him, comfort him, but that would not be wise, he knew. Handir's emotions were a broiling, whirling cauldron of hate, incomprehension, confusion and hurt and Lainion would do well to leave him be now, to find his equilibrium, if indeed that were possible.
….
Lainion had silently left and Handir felt his entire body sag, a testimony to just how much his former guard's words had affected him. He felt tired, exhausted almost and so he slowly lowered himself to the ground and sat, alone in the glade, alone and numb, shocked to the core at what Lainion had told him.
"…. You have a Silvan brother – one you have never met …"
He wanted to think, to analyze but he could not, for his thoughts flew this way and that, with no order, only chaos and his heart throbbed mercilessly, in a strange battle with his mounting anger – at his father, his mother.
'…. A brother…'
Lainion was surely mistaken, his mind screamed, but the information the Avari had given him had been more than enough,it seemed. If Lainion believed it, Handir could not gainsay him and yet – surely, surely it was impossible….
But it wasn't, and in his heart he knew the truth of it.
A Silvan brother….
Handir shook his head…
"A fledgeling warrior…. The best I have ever seen…."
His eyes filled with tears until they became too heavy to contain. That was why their mother left, he realized of a sudden as his heart now hammered in his chest, for the conclusion had simply and quite naturally, clicked into place. That is why she could not stay – it had not been a simple case infidelity, a child had been conceived, it had not been a one-night affair, it had been a matter of the heart.
All those years of suffering, of not understanding why she had abandoned them, thinking she had left them only because their father had committed adultery, for selfish pride. It had not been like that at all – she had left because their father had loved another woman, had loved her, enough to give her a child.
It made perfect sense, and against the odds, in spite of his anger and his outrage, and the pain in his heart that cut through to the marrow, despite the deep and cruel sense of utter betrayal and the confusion in his mind, he smiled through his tears.
Ram en knelt upon his knees, his hands resting delicately upon his powerful thighs. Idhrenohtar sat cross-legged, the palms of his hands over his knee caps and Legolas, Legolas sat against a large old oak with his eyes closed and his mind absent, for he thought on the events of the previous eve, when he had taken his vows and finally become a novice warrior.
It had been surprisingly solemn, except for the celebration that had spontaneously developed afterwards in the Eastern glade amongst the twenty new novices. Even now they were nursing their queasy stomachs and thumping heads. But Legolas' headache was not enough to cloud his memory.
Why he had cast a glance at the group of onlooking parents, sweethearts and siblings as he took his vow he could not explain, for there was no one there for him; no father, no mother, no aunt or siblings. And yet he had spotted the face of a young, Sindarin lord in fine robes who stood towards the back. His hair was of dark gold and his skin white and smooth with eyes the colo
r of the sea. But it was not their color that had caught Legolas' attention. It was the vague similarity in their features, that and the way the lord regarded him. Perhaps he too, was surprised and there was no wonder, for Legolas' features were regarded as unique and although this, enigmatic lord did not have his own, admittedly strange green eyes, his face was familiar all the same.
He had shaken himself mentally, turning to rejoin his fellow novices, smiling at them as he moved to stand beside them, but try as he might he could not resist one last glance at the crowd, only to find him gone.
Well he was half Sindarin himself, and was, only now, coming into contact with more elves of that race. He was physically more alike to them and that thought was refreshing, for his features had always been a cause for comment and yet now, in spite of his unique eyes, Legolas actually fit better with the Sindar than he did with the Silvan. He was not sure he liked that thought and he wondered if, perhaps, he would be allowed to wear his leather bracelets. He mentally snorted at himself for the childish idea but his left hand moved up to touch the braided leather around his right wrist, the band Amareth had given him upon his coming of age.
"Legolas."
"Um?" he responded distractedly.
"Briefing is in half an hour."
Opening his eyes, he leveled them with his two friends, his heart beginning to thump a little too fast, for the briefing would reveal their assignments, and they would finally know whether they would be together – or separated for the first time since they had knowledge of the world.
He quelled his fluttering stomach and hardened his features, but not quite skillfully enough to hide the transformation from his friends.
"The time is come then," said Legolas.
"Aye," answered Idhrenohtar slowly. "Our time together may be short, my friends, for there are only twenty of us, and seven quadrants to cover in the forest."
"The Company will be disbanded then, broken err it truly begins," said Ram en Ondo forlornly, a sad smile stretching his lips. He visibly started though, when he saw Legolas' face.
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