"You Silvans certainly know how to party," said Glorfindel as he sat on a cushion and poured them wine.
"Oh yes, we excel in that, Glorfindel. Soon, my people will return to the camp and continue until the Sun is awake and we are falling asleep! What-" he began timidly, "what was it like in Gondolin?"
Glorfindel smiled and Legolas watched the play of emotion on his face.
"Not as wild as the Silvans, not as civilised as Imladris. We did have dances like yours though, not only reels but warrior dances - I will teach you one day," he said and Legolas smiled.
"I would like that. We already have an ongoing project, one more will be welcome…" he said, and Glorfiindel knew he referred to the Qalma Liltie. It would take them years to perfect, but if he knew Legolas at all, he knew that he would, one day, dominate the art, and then they would dance it together, become legend.
"Your people are leaving for the camp, I think, Legolas," said Maeneth and Legolas turned to watch them as they waved their goodbyes.
"Then come," he said, rising and taking Llyniel's hand. "I should escort you back to your parents, unless you think they would allow you to follow me?"
"If I ask they would protest. Come, escort me to them and I will - inform them - of where I will be."
Legolas smiled. He had suspected she would say such a thing but had not wanted to presume.
"You are all invited back of course, he said to the rest. Glorfiindel held up his hand, he would stay where he was, comfortable and at peace, and Maeneth smiled ruefully.
"I should not push my luck," she said and then turned shyly to Elladan.
"Maeneth, at least a stroll in the lower gardens? I will escort you back to your father and - Rinion," said Elladan, somewhat sourly, to which she laughed.
"Aye, you would do well, and yes - a walk in the gardens would be lovely," she said more softly now, and Legolas caught Handir's calculating gaze as he smiled into his own goblet.
"I will see you later then, Elladan. Handir?"
"Oh no! I am become a prude, brother, I will sit here with Glorfindel for a while."
"Then I will see you all later, or tomorrow. Have fun, my friends!" he smirked, and then offered his arm to Llyniel, who took it with a smile and a saucy giggle.
Soon they were ambling down the path that led into the Silvan camp, and the music became louder. It was not the grand, orchestral harmonies of the Fortress, but different groups of music, playing their own tunes to drums, flutes, fiddles and lyres. It was exciting and Llyniel smiled as she hugged closer to Legolas' arm, the primal beat setting the perfect background to an almost perfect evening.
The Silvan smiled and looked down upon her contented face. It had been a good night so far, he reckoned. The pomp and circumstance had gone as well as it possibly could have, and the Silvans had even managed to liven them up with their jigs and reels.
Elladan would now be trying to endear himself to Maeneth in the gardens, he thought with a grin.
"What makes you smile, Legolas?" asked Llyniel.
"Elladan - and Maeneth," he stressed.
"Oh yes. She likes him, you know," she said matter-of-factly and Legolas looked down at her in askance. "Oh?"
"Oh yes - attraction at first sight, I reckon. Prince Rinion was not impressed," she snorted and Legolas giggled. "Indeed no. Perhaps she will be amenable to his advances, then," he mused.
"Oh I would think so," she said with a smirk. "A dashing Noldorin Lord, cultured music, fine wine and a crisp evening . 'tis a recipe for romance…"
"Oh? said Legolas. "And - a galant Silvan Warlord in a skirt, dangerous grass liqueur and a towering tree - would that work?" he asked, his mouth suddenly close to hers.
"It might," she smiled, and together, they walked into the thick of the real party - the wild one.
The next morning, breakfast was served at the eleventh hour, unsurprising to most, for the festivities had lasted all night, literally; indeed as some flocked to breakfast, others were still making their way home, only half-aware of where they were, or even who they were…
As Legolas and the Company slept beneath the trees, Llyniel was waking from her sleep at the fortress, a dreamy look in her eyes and a saucy smile for her mother, who had summarily bombarded her daughter with questions and comments and things her friends had said that she was bursting to share.
Maeneth's awakening was sweeter, quieter. Dressing simply, she allowed her maid to braid her hair as she mused quietly on last night's festivities, and what had followed. Leaving her rooms and bound for the family gardens, the image of a handsome Noldorin lord lingered in her mind's eye. Rolling her eyes at herself, she walked through the door and into the garden, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the brilliant sunshine. Hazy white turned into colours that sharpened into objects and Maeneth froze where she stood. Blinking, she scowled, feeling the beginnings of panic welling in her chest…
"Rinion! Handir!" she screamed, before sobbing and then placing a hand on her heaving chest, breathing too fast.
A guard rushed through the door, frantically looking around for the danger the Princess was surely in, but there was nothing, and then he, too, stood paralysed.
"Brothers!" she shouted. She was scared, terrified…
Moments later, Rinion charged through the door, sword in hand and behind him, Thranduil and Aradan.
"Yavanna Kementari…." whispered Rinion in utter shock.
But Handir, although stunned himself, smiled softly at first, and then wider. "Yes … Yavanna."
"What is is you know?" asked Rinion, puzzled now at the expression on his brother's face.
"Legolas - Legolas did this…" he said confidently.
"No - no that is not possible," said Maeneth, shaking her head.
"Not impossible, Princess," said Mithrandir kindly as he stepped forward. "Your brother is a Protege, my Lady. The grace of Yavanna allowed him to do this - and I dare say he has something to say about it, the reason behind those barren roses - for so it seems to work…"
"Her roses… Rinion…" said Maeneth shakily as she slowly approached the bush that had bloomed, its vines full, heavy with the weight of the most perfect pink roses Maeneth had ever seen. These were the flowers that had not blossomed since the queen had left, the fruitless bush that had always reminded the siblings of their mother's suffering, of her departure and their grief.
"Guard! Call for Lord Legolas at the Silvan camp. Tell him it is urgent, he must accompany you back here.." ordered Rinion, his voice clipped.
"My Prince," saluted the guard.
"It is - preternatural - " whispered Handir as he slowly began to walk, holding his arms out and trying to take in every detail of what his eyes were seeing.
Every single flower in the entire garden had blossomed, and bees and butterflies flitted here and there, reaping the ostentatious bounty that was to be had. The grass and leaves seemed impossibly vibrant, trees and bushes seemed larger - this was a garden of paradise and Handir smiled once more, and then giggled as he turned on his heel and closed his eyes as he danced around himself.
Maeneth giggled at him, her fright now gone, replaced with awe and yet incomprehension. Sitting upon the grass, she allowed her hands to glide over the fresh green grass, and then reached out to the rose bush and plucked a smaller flower, placing it inside her hair.
Handir and Rinion sat beside her, while Thranduil, Mithrandir, Glorfindel and a growing number of onlookers watched in utter awe.
The king turned and instructed a guard to have breakfast served here, and to let no one else pass, save for Lord Legolas when he arrived. Thus the door was guarded, and the lords moved to join the younger siblings, sitting themselves down on a nearby stone table.
"How is this possible, Mithrandir?" asked the King as his eyes darted here and there.
"He did something similar in Imladris, although not quite so spectacular, I must say," muttered the wizard.
"If he truly did this, then his powers are well beyond what I had though
t, Mithrandir."
"It is easy to underestimate him, I think. He is a warrior, he hides this facet of himself well, and that is good, I think. It will protect him some."
Servants placed platters of food and jugs of juice upon the simple garden table, and then bowed, unable to resist looking around the stunning garden as they left.
Soon after, the door opened and Legolas stepped through and into the garden. He stopped and looked around, his eyes seeming to analyse every plant, every flower, every change that had taken place since he had sat here the night before.
He was dressed as a simple Silvan civilian. Brown breeches and black boots, a long white shirt and a green jerkin on top. His hair was still plaited, but the crown arrangement was gone and his characteristic pony tale stood high upon his crown. His face, however, told of his activities the night before, indeed of this very same morning, for his complexion was paler than was usual, eyes a little more slanted and shaded, albeit they had returned to their normal, bright green colour. The only things that marked him as Warlord, were the beads in his hair and the ring upon his finger.
"Legolas, join us," said the king, a little too lightly and Legolas smiled knowingly.
Nodding to them all, he sat next to Handir and reached for the juice, pouring himself a healthy glass and drinking deeply from it.
"Dehydrated?" asked Rinion with a smirk.
Legolas gave him a wry smile, his answer monosyllabic, "aye."
"Headache?" asked Maeneth innocently as she watched her brother in amusement.
"Aye."
"Content?" asked Glorfindel.
Legolas' head rose for the first time since sitting, and then smiled at his friend. "Aye," he said sincerely through his smile, and Glorfindel returned it, knowing full well that his reply had been about much more than simply the night of the festivities. He was happy with life, for the most part, wagered Glorfindel, for things were finally falling into place. There was only one thing left now, and that was for Legolas to open his arms to his real father, to Thranduil.
"Legolas," began Maeneth carefully. "Was it you? Did you do - all this?" she asked as she looked around the garden, as if she still could not quite believe it.
"They did it themselves, sister. It took but a receptive ear to take away that which impeded their natural instincts."
"You sound like a wizard," snorted Rinion. "Speak clearly, boy."
Legolas arched an eyebrow at the Crown Prince, but wisely held his tongue as he tried to explain himself.
"The garden did not bloom because it was reflecting the residual grief of she who inhabited this place - of Queen Aglareb…"
A fork clattered onto a plate and silence descended over the group.
"Have a care, brother…" warned Handir, aware of how Legolas' next words may affect his volatile, elder brother.
"Do you want the truth? Or do you want to appease your brother, Handir? I am in no mood for intrigues and subtleties, truly."
Handir turned back to Legolas. "Do you not recall how the last - conversation such as this one - ended up?" he asked with a frown. "I have no wish to witness it again."
"Then perhaps it is Rinion you should be speaking with, not me?" he asked somewhat sarcastically.
"Perhaps," conceded Handir.
"Legolas, please, just tell us - how, what happened?" pleaded Maeneth.
"You will recall I left the festivities momentarily - for truth be told their voices were insistent - I had to see what it was they felt so strongly about. I knew though, that it would be here," he pointed to the roses, "here, is were it started, and perhaps where it finishes…" he muttered, almost to himself.
"Legolas," said Rinion, his impatience beginning to show on his angular face, "for the love of…."
"Rinion," said Maeneth irritably, garnering a smirk from Handir and even Thranduil.
Shooting a grateful smile at the princess, Legolas continued.
"If I am to speak the truth - you must here me out, Rinion. No dramas, no scenes, I have no patience for it this morning."
"Go on," said the crown prince, his antagonism fading somewhat.
"Sometimes, when I listen, when they speak to me it is difficult to understand what it is that I hear - in the sense that I cannot be sure if the feelings are from the past, an echo of sorts, or if they are from the present. Remember this for it is important… " he said, casting his eyes over them all to emphasise his point before continuing.
"The queen - would sit here, thinking - and although she was Sinda, I would wager she was close to nature, more than usual for one of her race.."
"How do you know that?" asked Handir. "I mean it is true, she would spend hours here, alone or in the company of her maids, with us - this was her place," he clarified, and the other siblings nodded.
Legolas took a deep breath, and then pressed on, and Thranduil watched him closely. The boy was suffering the effects of what seemed to be a colossal hang over - the guard must surely have awoken him. He poured tea and pushed it forwards and Legolas looked up at him gratefully for a moment, blowing on the steaming liquid.
"Her thoughts were grim - at first, but others came to me, thoughts of - closure. She called out to you, my King - and this is where I could not be sure if her message was a simple echo of the past, something she decided before she left, or whether it is a reflection of her thoughts now, in Valinor…"
"Message- what message?" asked the king flatly, and the three siblings sat suddenly straighter upon the grass.
"She said, that she releases you, my King, from the bonds you had never wanted…"
Thranduil startled and sat back in shock, and then spared a worried glance at his children sitting upon the lawn.
Maeneth's eyes had filled with tears, and Handir frowned. Rinion's face, however, was blank.
"She said, she never wanted - never knew…"
"What, knew what?" asked Rinion.
"I do not know - my words are the words that came to me, Rinion. I can only make conjectures."
"And what do you think, Warlord?" asked Mithrandir. "Is this simply a reflection of the past…?"
Legolas held the wise blue eyes before answering and Thranduil watched them both, thinking perhaps that Mithrandir already knew the answer to his own question.
"No - it is not a reflection. It is Queen Aglareb's wish to free our king from his bond of matrimony - I know this, because the shadow has been lifted from this place - the grief has gone from it, just as it has left her."
Maeneth covered her mouth with her hand and Handir placed an arm around her shoulders. "Then she is Queen no more," said Handir, almost to himself.
"To me, she will always be the Queen of this realm, Handir," said Thranduil as he stood, and Handir simply stared at him, and then nodded silently.
"You are free then," began Rinion. "Free to love again," he said, and tension crackled around them, for the comment was a daring one, a challenge from Crown Prince to King.
"Not free, Rinion," began Thranduil calmly. "I have not been free to love for seven hundred and forty five years," he said softly, his eyes momentarily straying to Legolas'.
"If you will excuse me…" he said, and then left in silence, to the sanctuary of his rooms. Away from this, away from them all.
"Must you always antagonise, Rinion?" asked Handir in irritation.
"It was not my wish to antagonise, Handir. I spoke the truth. He is free."
"And what good would that do him?" asked Glorfindel, "if the only one he would love - is dead?"
Rinion stared back at Glorfindel, but promptly looked away and Legolas stood.
"For my part, I am glad that your mother is well, that she is at peace. This garden will remind you only of good things now, not the grief but the acceptance, that life continues, we will it or not."
"Thank you, brother, for this gift," said Maeneth and Legolas finally smiled, in spite of his throbbing head. Handir too, nodded his thanks but Rinion stood and approached his younger brother.
"You
are generous, I cannot deny that, just as I cannot deny that I dislike the idea of my father and my mother being sundered from their bond. Yet it is a fact - one I must accept. Had your own mother lived, perhaps there would be happiness for her now, and for you."
Legolas stared back at Rinion in shock, for these were the first, kind words Rinion had ever spoken to him.
"It is too late for her, Rinion. She did die, a humble Silvan woman. I will not see her until the ending of days but you - rejoice in what you have, brother; a mother that is heeled, one that awaits you all when your time is come - no matter she is now separated from your father."
Rinion looked to the floor and then back at Legolas. "Yes - that is the short of it. Your mother is gone but this you already knew - and yet you have us now, your sister and brothers - rejoice in what you have, brother."
"I will," he said softly, "I do," he whispered.
She woke up with a jolt and reached for her sword.
It wasn't where she always left it.
Stars, forget the sword, she couldn't even find the edge of her cot!
Her eyes opened. She blinked at the pink sunlight, crumpled in rose sheets.
Warm. The bed smelled like rain on pine-trees. Her eyelids snapped open, and her eyes slid toward the sound of water sloshing and the ringing of elvish voices.
"No," the King broke into Westron. "Finding the target is made more complex by what she did, Lord Elrond. It was inadvertent. You have my deepest apologies that I have yet been unable to deliver you from this yoke of suffering. She healed me quite without warning."
"It is to be expected," said the Lord's low voice, which, nonetheless, hummed like a tuning-fork struck in the dark of her skull. Elrond was resonant in all he was and did. Even so hushed, his voice struck a deep bell, softly. In contrast, the Elfking's whispers were the rustle of leaves in the wind, as if, in the pair of them, a cataract of waterfalls met a tower of forest.
And she was just a human girl on the Elfking's bed. Uncharted territory. Very probably dangerous. Stars. Her cot was deserted. Her troop had to be wondering where the Fires she was. They'd be looking for her by now. Stumbling around, bumping into one another-
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