But then a thought occurred to him. "Have you never seen Oropher in all those books you have read?"
Legolas scowled, before answering, "No - never. We have a limited library in my village, but no - nothing."
Glorfindel leant back, his suspicions confirmed. There had been a conspiracy amongst the Silvans - they had known, and they had sheltered him, there was no other explanation, for Oropher had his own treatise, had been a king and renowned warrior - it was impossible to not come across a rendering of him.
A sudden thought occurred to him and he stood, holding out a hand. "Come," was all he said, and Legolas slowly rose, hiding his discomfort as he did so, unaware that Glorfiindel had seen it.
Slowly, they left the room and Legolas looked around worriedly.
"Fear not. Should Elrond find us, I will tell him it is all my fault," smiled Glorfindel.
Legolas smiled back and nodded as he slowly followed the one he had revered for all his life - it was simply unbelievable that he was here now, walking behind him, he had so many questions, so many…
They stopped before a mural and after a moment, Glorfindel pointed to the blond warrior atop the outcrop, standing aside to watch Legolas as he came closer.
The transformation was immediate, for his face became taut and his eyes wide and too moist, a slight hitch in his breathing and a step backwards as if burnt.
"That is your grandfather, Legolas. My brother. Be proud - always be proud to share his blood," he whispered as he watched. The boy stepped forward once more and brought his face up against the wall.
"How is it possible?" he whispered, to himself it seemed as he continued to stare in shocked fascination.
He lifted a trembling hand to the painted figure but stopped short just before it touched the cool stone. "His eyes are blue," he said finally.
"Yes," smiled Glorfindel. "It is, perhaps, the only difference, is it not?" he asked invitingly.
Legolas turned to face Glorfiindel then, the light of nascent understanding changing his expression once more. "It is strange, is it not?" he asked softly, "that I had never seen him before…," he finished, his eyes almost begging the ancient warrior to gainsay him, but Glorfindel did no such thing.
"Yes - it is strange," he answered, his eyes fixed meaningfully on Legolas. The boy had guessed at the implications, but said no more and so, with a kind hand upon his shoulder, Glorfindel guided Legolas back to his bed with the promise that tomorrow, he would be free. And as the ancient warrior made his way back to his own rooms, he allowed his mask to fall and his face to show his true emotions.
Deep puzzlement, anger, apprehension, and pure, unadulterated excitement…
And so it was, that the following morning, Legolas donned his new, tailored clothes, and walked together with The Company to the shared dining area, where breakfast was currently being served.
As they walked ever closer to the din that echoed down the hallways, Galdithion tugged on Legolas' new garments, the rest sniggering at his antics.
Legolas glared at him as he pulled them back into place, smoothing a hand over his newly washed and braided hair. Lainion had offered to put the Avarin locks back in, and the The Company had insisted he accept, claiming it would attract the lasses, not only to Legolas but to them all.
Idhrenohtar had not wanted to comment, but his friend looked simply stunning. None of them had ever worn clothes of such fine quality, indeed the tailor had clearly made an effort to fashion their clothes in the Silvan style, slightly more daring than the typical, symmetrical Noldorin lines. That, together with the exotic braids and his stunning, green eyes were a recipe for turning the eye.
Soon, they came to the threshold of the dining halls of Elrond's court, where The Company, together with the remains of The Greenwood's escort, had taken breakfast for the last three days as they waited for Legolas to recover. They had turned a few heads, being foreigners from Thranduil's realm, but today, the room fell as silent as the void as they stared at the six warriors in unashamed curiosity.
Legolas, far from showing any discomfort he felt, steeled himself as he scanned the room, quickly sporting Galadan, who waved them over. Relieved, and duly impressed, Idrenohtar and The Company, followed him to the Greenwood table and saluted Lieutenant Galadan.
"Morning, Sir," said Legolas.
"Morning boys. Welcome back, Legolas," he said with a nod and a keen eye that searched for any lingering weakness.
"Thank you, Sir," said Legolas, his eyes momentarily alighting on Silor, who sneered into his plate. He said nothing though, and Idhrenohtar was glad of it, for after all that had happened, he was not at all sure Ram en Ondo would be able to rein in his temper, indeed his own threatened to snap every time he looked at the Sindarin fool.
Legolas looked relieved, he mused as he began his meal. He was probably just glad nobody had referred to his secret - well, secret no more - they had all treated him as they had done before, if not will a little more respect, if silence could thus be interpreted. Yet the undercurrent, the rampant gossip and unveiled curiosity was nigh on suffocating, and Idhrenohtar did not envy his friend at all.
Conversation had slowly picked up once more, but the surreptitious glances had not stopped, and the stilled conversations were evident to any who wished to look, and Idhrenohtar did. They would be talking of Legolas, Thranduil's bastard son, of the story behind his begetting, yet he still had no idea of how they would have taken the news. Would they respect him? Despise him? It was impossible to say, but he would watch, and he would learn, and should any step out of line - well - The Company would see to his safety, would suffer no slight to their friend.
Elrond and his sons sat at the head table together with Prince Handir and Lord Erestor, he noted, while Lord Glorfiindel sat to one side, together with Commander Celegon of The Greenwood.
They all talked as they ate, but from time to time, their eyes would swivel to Legolas' table, only for a brief moment, not enough for his friend to notice, perhaps. Even the ladies cast their calculating eyes on him, wondering no doubt, at the status this Silvan warrior would someday enjoy. 'None!' he scoffed to himself - the Sindar would never allow that, would never condone the presence of a bastard prince - a Silvan bastard prince.
"Good morning," came the deep voice of Elladan, who stood before the table, and specifically Legolas. They all made to rise but a subtle gesture had them all sitting once more.
"Will you join us, my Lord?" asked Galadan dutifully.
"No, thank you, Lieutenant. I wished only for a word with your warrior here," he gestured to Legolas.
"Of course," said Galadan with a lingering stare, before nodding and returning to his breakfast.
"Legolas. My father has asked to see you, after breakfast in his study."
"Of course, my Lord - if someone will lead the way?" he asked with a smile.
"I will accompany you," said the Noldorin Lord, "in exchange for one of those sticky buns - there are none left on my table…" he lamented.
Legolas stared for a moment, and then a giggle flew out of his mouth before he could check it, sending the table into silence once more.
Idhrenohtar resisted the urge to roll his eyes at them, before passing the plate to Elrond's son, who nodded, and then hooked a particularly large bun and slowly, stuffed it into his mouth.
"You make them look so good," said Legolas, his own eyes now on the treat, debating, it seemed, whether or not to take one himself.
"Try," came the muffled word and Legolas giggled again, only this time Elladan had been caught unawares and made to laugh himself, only for a chunk of the sticky bun to fly out of his mouth.
Mortified, he held his hand over his mouth but it was too late, Legolas collapsed into peels of laughter, setting the rest of the Company to chuckling - even Galadan smiled as he shook his head at them.
Elladan smiled as he chewed on the overly-large ball of food in his mouth, and Idhrenohtar was inexplicably glad of it. The Noldo had seemed so distant and cool, yet
here he was, spitting his bun and laughing along with the rest of them. Idhrenotar decided then, that he liked this son of Elrond, and he rather thought Legolas did too. He had saved his friend's life, found him and brought him back to them and for that, the Wise Warrior would be ever grateful.
Breakfast was over, but the stares and the whispering were not. Imladris was afire with gossip and hearsay, and everywhere Legolas went, silence followed, and then came the whispers and the lingering stares. Thranduil's bastard child was the subject of every conversation and a heavy weight settled upon Legolas' chest, for what would his king think? His secret was now common knowledge in a land that shared but cursory relations with The Greenwood.
With a deep breath, Legolas watched as Elladan knocked upon the solid, carved oak of Elrond's inner sanctum - his private study, and as the doors opened, Legolas found himself standing before the Lord himself, Glorfindel and Erestor at his shoulder. Behind, Prince Handir, Lainion and Commander Celegon stood together, and Elrohir who sat alone upon the window seat, looking apparently unconcerned, was soon joined by his twin brother, Elladan.
They looked regal, splendid and old, wise and all-seeing and for a moment his courage wavered. These Lords had fought in the Last Alliance, had known his grandfather, had seen the face of Sauron, had marvelled at the sights of the Hidden City - fought Demons of Morgoth… and here, was Legolas, Silvan warrior with no rank and no title, no family name to add to his own.
He bowed before Elrond silently, meeting the grey eyes squarely, allowing the lord to see his apprehension, for he would, Legolas knew. What good would it do to hide it save to make himself appear even younger and more inexperienced than he already was?
"Your first day of freedom, Legolas. How do you feel?" asked Elrond kindly.
"Well, my Lord, thanks to you and your household," he said, and Elrond nodded, before gesturing to a seat.
His eyes begged to wander, to relish the artwork that hung on the stone walls - paintings, murals, tapestries, carvings - his fingers itched to touch it, but Elrond had other plans, it seemed. There was nothing for it, this he had known from the moment Elladan had summoned him. He was uncomfortable, nervous, completely ignorant to how they would react to their newfound knowledge of his heritage, except for Glorfiindel, with whom he had spoken just the day before and had unexpectedly found a sympathetic ear.
"As you know, Legolas, it has come to our attention that you are the son of King Thranduil, born outside the bounds of matrimony. As such, it is important, from a diplomatic perspective, that Imladris should be made aware of certain issues that may affect our dealings with those of The Greenwood." He paused here for a moment, his eyes watching Legolas for a reaction before continuing.
"I want you to know that whatever is said here, today, will be done so with the sole purpose of adopting an official stance on your existence. I know," he added quickly, "that sounds a little cold and that is not my intention, Legolas. Indeed it is important to me - to us, that you understand the political ramifications of this situation.
Again, he paused but Legolas remained silent, his eyes fixed upon Elrond.
"We know that you have been aware of your heritage for a few scant days, and that perhaps you have not had the time to truly understand how this may change things."
It was only now, that Legolas reacted, and in no uncertain terms. "Change things? Why would it change things, my Lord? I want nothing from my father, I claim nothing…"
"You - do not, no. But what of your father, Legolas? What if he - claims you?"
Legolas sat speechless, for truth be told he had not thought of that at all.
"Why would he?" he asked simply, albeit a little insecurely. "I am the result of an illicit affair, my begetting will be deemed shameful - I expect nothing but scorn, my Lord."
He had riled himself, for although he had not raised his voice his intonation had become more acute. Was it not obvious that he would not be made welcome?
It was Elrond who stared back at him now, and when he answered, he did so carefully, yet the tone of authority was clear for all to hear.
"Have you had the time to come to that conclusion? - to honestly think on it? Or are you speaking from the heart, Legolas?"
Legolas startled at the question, but he held his tongue and forced himself to think. He looked to the floor for a moment, clearly struggling to collect himself and reason through the fog of rising emotion.
"No - no my Lord. I have not had the time, and aye," he smiled ruefully, "I spoke from the heart. My apologies," he added.
"There is no need for apologies, Legolas. We are all here sympathetic to your predicament, are we not?" asked Elrond as he cast his eyes around the room. It was Lord Celegon who spoke though, realising perhaps, that it would take one from the The Greenwood to assure the boy.
"Legolas, it is as Elrond has said. I only realised myself a few days ago…"
Legolas frowned, "you knew?" he asked incredulously.
"Not at first, no, but your resemblance to Oropher is astounding. But it was when I saw you fight - that I knew…"
Legolas remained silent, and Glorfiindel straightened - intrigued now at Celegon's words, for although they had spoken extensively over the last two days, Glorfindel had been unable to draw out the Sindarin general on his thoughts on Legolas.
"How?" he all but whispered.
"I could not be sure, but when Lieutenant Galadan put it to me, I could not refute his reasoning. The resemblance, the skill with which you wield your knives, in spite of your age, your friends that protect you; all this and - and something else we cannot quite define…" said Celegon, his eyes wide and challenging.
Legolas swallowed, and then looked around the room, only to find all eyes upon him once more. He finally looked to Elrond, silently imploring him to continue, for he had no idea of what they spoke.
"So," continued the Lord of Imladris. "We know that your - the King, has been informed of your appearance during your journey here for it seems he believed you to be in Valinor with your mother…"
Legolas stared back, not quite sure what to say, for this much he knew, if nothing else.
"Alright, so am I right in saying you know no more?"
"You are right, my Lord." There was a defensive note in Legolas' tone that none failed to perceive.
"The question is," continued Elrond, "how will the king react?" he asked, and then waited.
"My father," began Handir, rising from his seat, "has spent the last centuries inside a shell, distancing himself from his surroundings. We thought it due to the departure of the queen, and the ensuing scandal, for the king's infidelity became known. We thought it was for shame that he had precipitated her departure, abandoning her adolescent children," he said, addressing them all as he spoke, but his eyes - his eyes were riveted on Legolas'.
"Now that I know, I believe his grief was due to something else - the loss - the loss of his soulmate - your mother…" he said quietly.
Legolas' eyes had grown wide and round, the green irises shimmering beautifully, in quiet empathy with his half brother. Lassiel had been the reason Handir's mother had sailed…
"And yet," continued the Prince, "and yet it was not my father's infidelity that sent my mother away…," he said softly, before turning to face Legolas, "it was not Lassiel - it was you - it was because Thranduil had conceived a child…"
Legolas' eyes filled with unshed tears before he stood abruptly, turning his face away from them for he could no longer stand the shame..
Someone had come to stand before him, between him and the door that now called at him to flee, to escape the unbearable weight, the shame, the guilt…
His eyes slowly travelled upwards, past the jewelled belt and the blazing sun upon a silver breast plate, and then to the face of Glorfindel who looked back at him meaningfully. 'Turn and face them,' he seemed to be saying.
And Legolas did, in spite of his swimming eyes and a face that felt too hot.
"Legolas," came the soft voice o
f his brother again. It was mellow and strangely beguiling and Legoals felt compelled to lift his face and meet his gaze, Glorfindel now behind him.
"It is what you represent, that hurts, Legolas - not you - brother."
Legolas' eyes rounded in utter surprise - the shock of being called a brother leaving him speechless, and had he looked around him, he would have seen the soft smile of Glorfindel, the intent stare of Elrond and Erestor, and the bright, hopeful eyes of Lainion.
Handir, realising he had left the boy incapable of uttering a single word, took a step forward, his eyes riveted on the strange green eyes that watched him carefully, that shimmered like green moss below the crystal waters of a forest pool - so different from his own. But the face, the bone structure, the color of their skin and the set of their mouths was similar. It was the first time that Handir had truly allowed himself to look, and he saw his own fascination mirrored on the face of his brother as he, too, seemed to be mapping his face, noting the similarities and the differences.
When Legolas did speak, it was quiet and mumbled, and his sudden vulnerability sent a lance of pain through the hearts of the Noldorin lords that watched.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I am so sorry I - I never had a mother to lose but you - "
"Don't," began Handir, but he could not continue, for Legolas was muttering again.
"I am sorry for sending her away, for your pain, for every time you look at me you must…" he cut off, his voice wavering as a tear finally escaped his eye.
Handir took a step towards his brother and brought up his soft, manicured hand, touching his brother's tunic tentatively, just over the heart. Legolas turned his eyes to his brother once more, fascinated, it seemed, by the soft touch. He lifted his own, rough, calloused hand and tentatively, returned the gesture.
"All I need is time, Legolas. Time to disassociate my own misery with your presence. Remember, it is not personal, it is not you that I despise for the loss of my mother and the decline of my father. You are brave and beautiful, courageous like no other, or so I have heard, there are many that love you and that is due to your own merits, Legolas. I am not your enemy, and in time, perhaps we can become the brothers we should always have been…"
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