He felt like laughing, but it was a bitter laugh, one born of utter frustration and a sense of magnitude that would not leave him. Amareth, Tirion, Thavron, his father…
He turned to the small table beside his bed, his eyes landing heavily on the scroll that lay there. He reached for it and read the last line once more.
'… although we do not know each other, I hope that one day, we will…'
He breathed heavily once more. There was no denying it. The arrow was in his quiver now, and protocol screamed that he should answer. On the bright side, he had the whole day before him, and for the first time in four days, life did not seem so bad. Aye there was a distant weight in his mind about his eventual return home and everything that entailed, but it still seemed so far away, and there was so much still to achieve here.
Resolved to enjoy the rest of his time in the Valley, he rose, dressed, and tidied his hair as best he could. Cut it? came Elladan's tentative suggestion from the day before but nay - how could he? In Silvan culture, hair was an extremely important part of an elf. To cut it was near sacrilege, akin to scarring oneself purposefully. He shivered at the thought and resolved to get a handle on controlling the unruly mass.
As he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he realised that his cheekbone was going to cause him some strife though, for Elrohir's ring had cut it, leaving a small red line sitting over a purple bruise. His mind began to fumble for an explanation, but The Company would not be easy to convince, especially Idhrenohtar.
Straightening his green tunic, he left his room, bound for the dining halls, only to come face to face with a startled Elladan.
"Aiye Legolas!"
Legolas simply smiled at the Noldo's expression, before cocking his head to one side.
"I came to accompany you to breakfast, warn you of Elrohir's strange mood and to see if his impetuosity left a visible mark; I see that it did," he sighed in exasperation.
"I have been searching for a believable excuse for the last few minutes, but my imagination is playing me foul," scowled the Silvan.
"Legolas," said Elladan as they walked, "I just wanted to thank you, for last night. It brought closure to me and my father - his joy is equal to Elrohir's turmoil this morning. You will find the high table a study in Elven psychology."
"The High Table?"
"Aye, if you will accompany us?"
Legolas held Elladan's frank gaze before nodding. It was a saving grace in one way, at least he would not have to face The Company and their over-protectiveness.
And so, as they came to the halls and the din abruptly ceased, as it had done for the past few days now, Legolas calmly walked on, ignoring the curious stares and whispered comments that today, were even more obvious than they had been.
"Legolas," greeted Elrond warmly, rising to his feet and gesturing to a seat beside Glorfindel, his eyes only briefly straying to the bruise on his cheek. Glorfindel, however, was staring at it with slanted eyes and Elrohir, Elrohir simply looked to the side while Mithrandir's eyes twinkled with a hidden wisdom Legolas could only guess at, for he and the wizard had not gotten off to a promising start.
It was Handir, however, who made the first, inevitable comment no sooner Legolas had bowed to Prince and Lord, and sat.
"What happened to your face, Legolas? A training accident?" he asked, and Legolas was not quite sure if he had picked up on a note of sarcasm in his brother's voice. A quick glance at the Sindar confirmed his suspicions and suddenly, the atmosphere at the table turned awkward.
"In a sense, my Prince," said Legolas as lightly as he could, unable to meet the prince's glare. He did not, however, miss Erestor's calming hand upon Handir's forearm.
"In what - sense?" asked the Prince slowly, dangerously as his blue eyes strayed to the Noldor before him.
"Prince Handir," said Elrond, his tone lighter and more carefree than Legolas remembered it, "last night, Legolas revealed to me and my family what is the cause for much joy. However, during the course of that conversation, emotions ran - high - "
"I hit him," interrupted Elrohir miserably. I gave in to my emotions and slapped him even before I could register what I did," he said boldly. "I am sorry, Legolas, truly, and I know the disdain I will garner from those close to you will be punishment enough for me."
Almost before he had finished, Idhrenohtar had appeared behind Legolas, his body rigid, his face set in an eerily disturbing blankness that promised painful retribution. It was as if he had always been standing there, yet the still moving cloth of his underskirt gave him away.
Legolas rose to his feet and turned to the Wise Warrior. "Stand down, Idhreno," was all he said and the warrior nodded stiffly before turning back to his table, eyes lingering on Elrohir.
"Well, there you have it," said Elrond, clearing his throat and then reaching for the toast.
Legolas sat once more, aware of the stares he was receiving. "Elrohir," he said, his voice momentarily startling the miserable Noldo. "I forgive you, and I understand you - more than you know," he said, before turning to the food on the table, aware that Elrohir's eyes were upon him.
"So tell me, Legolas," asked Handir. "Do you have letters to send with the envoys tomorrow?"
Legolas froze for a moment, before answering his prince. "I do, my Prince. I will deliver them to you this evening if that is acceptable?" he asked.
Handir simply nodded, eyes glancing over his warrior brother while he was not looking, well aware, it seemed, of the implications of his question and yet unwilling to speak of it here, in public. And of course, Legolas knew that he knew; another chore for his otherwise full agenda for a day that had started on strange footing indeed.
It was after command training that Elrohir sought Legolas out, incapable of drawing out his own misery any longer. What surprised Legolas though, was that he was in the company of Handir.
Puzzled, he sat upon a bench and turned expectantly to Elrohir, for the elf had already publicly apologised. What more was there to say? he wondered.
"Legolas," began Handir. "I have had a long and interesting conversation with Lord Elrohir. He has spoken to me of what happened in the gardens, of what you said last night," he said softly before adding, "paradoxical, is it not?" he said with a sad smile.
His meaning was all to clear to Legolas, for he spoke of their own family trauma, of Handir's mother and his own.
"Yes, there is a clear parallelism that cannot be denied," he said. "My mother, Lassiel," he added as if he had not at first thought to mention her, "she faded for love, allowed herself to disappear from the lives of those she loved, an act Lord Elrohir described yesterday, as cowardly."
Said bluntly it sounded antagonistic, but it had not been his intention, and Elrohir seemed to understand that.
"I was wrong, Legolas. I had never thought of my mother's predicament in the way you brought it to my mind yesterday, that by sailing she would preserve her life for me, against her own wishes so that I could see her again at the price of her own suffering."
"And where does that leave my mother, Elrohir? Do you think her cowardly for allowing herself to fade? Do you think the Queen of The Greenwood a heroine then, for leaving for Aman?"
"Until yesterday I would have said yes, and yes. Their situation was the same, in a sense, with each of them taking an opposite decision. Yet now, today I cannot say. If I have learned something with all this, Legolas, it is to think, really think, from all the possible perspectives, to be sure of the truth before I judge. It will make me a better councillor for my father."
"Then I am glad. Truly, Elrohir."
"You are a good elf, Legolas, just as your brother is. He and I will become good friends," he predicted, his mood clearly lighter now that he had spoken plainly, "just as you have already become with Elladan."
Legolas smiled, but it faded a little as his eyes briefly caught those of his brother for now, the seed of doubt had been planted in his own mind. Had his mother faded for cowardice, because she could not face life wi
thout the king, in spite of the child she had given life to? a child that would need her and that would be denied the love of its mother?
He was exhausted and as evening turned to night, Legolas sat in the privacy of his rooms, a blank parchment before him, as blank as his mind. He had finished his letters for Amareth and Thavron, the words flowing freely as he spoke of his training, of his new friendships, of how he missed them and his aunt's pea soup. But now, when it was his father he would address, he simply could not decide where to begin, what to say, what tone to say it in.
He thought then, of his father's letter, the one he had read more times than he cared to admit. The king had been reassuring, if nothing else and it was, perhaps, all Legolas needed; to know he would be welcomed in The Greenwood …
My Lord king…
It is, indeed, difficult to know where to start or what to say, and so I shall be sincere.
I thank you for your reassurances regarding my eventual return to The Greenwood. Admittedly this was a point of concern and I am glad it has been resolved.
I wish to thank you for the opportunity you have provided me with, for I am taking great advantage of my time here in Imladris. Commander General Glorfindel has seen fit to tutor me personally in the finer points of my military skills, and Lord Elrond as also been most gracious in his knowledge of lore and history.
I sincerely hope that I may put these skills to use in The Greenwood as has ever been my desire, my calling.
I assume I will be escorting Prince Handir on his return to our kingdom, three months hence. I will, of course, report to you immediately, for as you have said, there is much to discuss, many questions I would ask, and a new development I must speak with you about.
Until then, my king …
There, it had been simple enough once he put his mind to it and so he re read the letter, and when he had finished he leaned back in his chair with a scowl. His own discourse sounded completely normal, if not a little distant for words uttered between father and son, but where was the pain? where was his righteous anger?
It had left him, he realised, it was no longer at the forefront of his mind, no longer that which mattered most. Now, it was simply the fact that he had a father, one that did not reject him now that had taken precedence over those negative emotions.
He felt lighter, better than he had for many years, and although he still did not understand it all, understand his mother, at least he had reached that pivotal moment in which he would not judge, not until he was in possession of the facts, for it was not only Elrohir who had learned his lesson.
He smiled, and nodded, a minor concession to himself and his achievement, for it was not a small one, indeed that weight had accompanied him all his life, he was so used to it that now, its absence left him floating on a cloud of well-being. I have two brothers, one sister, a father, and a mother with a name who resides in Mandos, and that I may see one day, in the distant future when all is done.
"My Lords, please be seated," exclaimed Erestor, watching as one by one, the guests at this closed council took their places around a long, rectangular table in the famed library of Imladris.
The doors, always open were now firmly closed, two guards beyond to ensure none trespassed on their lord's council.
Elrond, decked finely in his dark burgundy robes, sported a head dress Legolas had not previously seen. It was a striking piece that also served to keep his hair away from his face. To one side sat Chief Councillor Erestor and to the other, sat Lords Elrohir and Elladan. Further down were Prince Handir and finally, seated next to Legolas himself, was Commander Glorfindel.
All of them wore braids and jewels that denominated their status, their lordship, some in the forms of head dresses, while others wore rings or even necklaces. Only Legolas sat in his warrior uniform, nothing but leather ties to bind his hair away from his face, and the braids at his temples that marked him as a master archer.
With a bow to them all, Legolas sat, sparing a soft smile for Elrohir, whose own answering smile was wider.
"Now that we are all present, may the council begin. Lord Elrond?" prompted Erestor before sitting.
Elrond stood in a whoosh of fine cloth, his braids dancing around his temples.
"This council will be the second and final part of our talks of some weeks past," he began. "And now that we have word from the Greenwood, it is time for decisions to be made," he said, his eyes moving from Handir to Legolas, and then ultimately, to Mithrandir.
"My first duty, is to make a literal reading of King Thranduil's band, which will be read during the first Greenwood Summit currently taking place in your homeland, Prince Handir. It has much bearing on our talk," he said as he reached for the scroll and opened it.
"By Royal Decree, the elf known as Legolas Amarethion will now be named Legolas Thranduilion. As such, he must be addressed with honours and titles as befitting a son of the House of Oropher - from this day forward, Lord Legolas Thranduilion."
There was stunned silence around the table, and Elrond looked at them all before resting his eyes on Legolas, who stared back at him numbly.
"Needless to say, we do not know what impact this will have on The Greenwood, as the summit is ongoing. However, it is to be assumed that not all will agree with the king's decision," he said, sitting and waiting for the debate to start.
It was Handir who stood to speak first.
"I do not think proclaiming Legolas a lord will be any surprise, once he is recognised as a son of the king. It is a necessary act of protocol; dissent will arise if and when he is given some official function, for with that task comes power. Lord Bandorion will not take kindly to having the balance upset; he will react and try his best to move his pieces, to garner the sympathy of those already against my father, and those that are undecided."
"I will travel to The Greenwood when you return, Prince," said Mithrandir. "I feel it is paramount I reestablish talks with your father, get a feel for the political situation. It has been too long since I traversed those lands."
"You would be welcome to travel back with us in a few months time, if you so wish, Mithrandir," said Handir with a nod, to which the wizard said nothing.
Legolas though, saw and heard nothing of what was being said, for his mind was reeling. Lord… Lord Legolas. It sounded stupid to his ears for he had not earned that title, had done nothing to merit being regaled with such honour. He had always wanted to earn his achievements, had always resented those that used their privileges to gain notoriety.
"But what of the Crown Prince, my Lord? What of his stance in this, for you hinted that he was, in some way, sympathetic to Lord Bandorion's faction," said Erestor, a hand stroking his chin.
"My father has used the term 'minimally hostile' with regards to Rinion's attitude towards Legolas. I believe the king has secured an official stance from Prince Rinion," he said, before frowning and adding, "it is difficult to ascertain whether my brother's words of admiration for our uncle were said sincerely, or with the sole purpose of irking our father," he trailed off, as if it had only just occurred to him.
"We must garner the truth," said Mithrandir. "Between Handir and myself, we should be able to render a true enough map of the Greenwood's politics.
"Mithrandir," said Handir, standing once more, "why are you so concerned with the internal workings of The Greenwood?" he asked, his eyes sharpening on the wizard.
"Why would I not be? Anything that happens in the Greenwood concerns us all," said the istar lightly.
"I will not condone yours or anyone else's intervention in our politics, unless my king is explicitly in agreement that they do so. You give opinion where you have no public voice to do so."
There was an edge to Handir's voice that could not be denied and Legolas straightened in his chair, suddenly aware of the awkward atmosphere that had overtaken their council.
"A wizard always meddles in the affairs of elves, child," said Mithrandir kindly, but it was not, perhaps, the wisest approach, as Handir's re
action proved.
"Mithrandir," he said slowly, his eyes glinting, "this is hardly the moment for flippant comment. I understand that Lord Elrond needs a measure of knowledge in order to agree on an official stance regarding Legolas, after all, he has been in the Valley for some months now and needs to communicate with my king on this subject. That does not mean you or anyone else, may extrapolate and 'meddle' as you so readily admit, in the affairs of my father's realm.
Legolas was impressed. He had not seen this side of his brother's character. He was bold, that much was clear. He was no meek, bookish councillor; he was a strong, intellectual diplomat and he suddenly felt proud of him.
"Prince Handir," said Mithrandir, suddenly standing straighter than he had before. "My task upon Arda is to unite the free people, to bring harmony where I can. It is a given task, one I may not refuse, just as Lord Legolas here cannot refuse his own. As such, my authority comes from a higher source, my Prince."
Handir visibly stood down then, his voice and posture softening as he spoke once more. "And I am no one to gainsay that, Mithrandir. You speak so freely of intervening in the workings of my land and while it is your task to do so, from the inside it may be seen as interference," he explained.
"I am aware, my Prince. It would not be the first time I have been called an interfering old…"
"Mithrandir" said Elrond with a glint of amusement.
Handir sat then, and Elrond took the floor once more.
"It is decided then. Lord Legolas is to be counted amongst the noble elves and Imladris recognises him as such. Lord Legolas Thranduilion, welcome to Imladris," said Elrond with a bow. Legolas slowly stood, and bowed back, his face clearly showing how awkward he felt.
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