Walking through the main doors, he nodded at the elves that milled around, receiving in return the curious gazes of the Noldorin elves. He turned then to the Hall of Fire, where he knew Glorfindel would be waiting for him.
However the commander was not alone. He sat together with Elrond, Erestor, and Prince Handir.
Bowing first to Elrond, he then turned and bowed to his prince, who nodded back. It was strange, that this elf was his brother, so utterly strange to be bowing to him, to not feel at ease enough to call him by his name.
Standing before Glorfindel, he waited for the commander to speak.
"Legolas, sit, you are not on duty but in the presence of friends," he said, glancing at Handir for a moment before gesturing to a chair beside the fire, for the night was chill.
"Thank you, my Lord," he said as he sat somewhat stiffly.
"Tell us, what weapons will you choose tomorrow?" prompted Glorfindel.
"I am already an archer, he began. "One will be short swords, of course," he paused here, and Glorfindel saw the doubt in his apprentice's eyes.
"You are unsure of the second?"
"Yes. I admit I am torn between spears and swords."
"Spears," said Elrond in interest from a comfortable sofa nearby. "I have not seen that discipline since the second age. Do we have anyone in Imladris suitable to instruct him, Glorfindel?"
"Yes," he said thoughtfully. There is one who might teach him, the last spearman we have," said Glorfindel with a sad smile. "You have the build for it, but - I wonder…" he trailed off, his eyes losing their focus for a moment.
"What is it? You have a suggestion perhaps?" asked Legolas enthusiastically. He did not know why he doubted the sword but he did -
"I would show you something… come," he said thoughtfully as he stood. "Accompany me," he said without waiting for a reply, and so Legolas bowed to the remaining lords and left, under the curious gazes of Elrond, Erestor and Handir.
"Is he progressing as well as you thought he might?" asked Handir.
Elrond only half turned to the prince, the bright orange light catching his angular features, casting deep shadows upon his wise face.
"Oh yes. That, and then some…" said the lord thoughtfully.
Glorfindel did not stop until they were at the weapons hall. It was a long, stone building with vaulted ceilings. Down the centre, were rows upon rows of wooden stands, where swords and knives and all sorts of objects were stored. Upon the walls stood flags and standards, bows and lances, objects Legolas was sure had seen great battles. Indeed his mind imagined the foggy fields of mud and blood, the distant sounds of elven chanting, drums and the scrape of metal upon metal. He shivered at the thought and wondered if he would ever be in such battles.
"Here," said Glorfiindel as he emerged from a dark corner. "This is it."
"A spear?"
"Of sorts, although the metal tip is longer and wider, see," he said, pushing it up towards Legolas' face."
"Your grandfather was a master spearman, but his weapon was adapted. There are none here like the one he fashioned. It was something similar to this but the other end also had a blade, or more a curved, scimitar blade. It is a versatile weapon, and make no mistake," he said, turning to face Legolas. "Spears are not only for throwing - but for hand to hand …"
"I know, it is this adaptability that draws my attention to it. Throwing it, you can combat from afar, up close you can incapacitate an opponent or slice his head off. It has reach, more than a sword…"
"You have studied well, Legolas," he said approvingly as he picked up another spear. "Come, we take these two to the smiths tomorrow and see what he can come up with. I will speak with Dagoren, see whether he is amenable to your idea…"
"I did not know Oropher was a spearman," said Legolas thoughtfully.
Glorfindel smiled as he remembered his friend, training upon the fields to the awe of all who looked on. He had been good, and told Legolas as much.
"I am not sure I wish to follow in his footsteps," said Legolas pensively, and Glorfindel's smile faded.
"Why would you say such a thing?"
"Because - he is the reason my father was not allowed to take his soul mate as queen, he is the reason I grew as an orphan."
"Under the cold light of day - yes," said Glorfindel carefully. "But how many times are we any of us lucky enough to see things under such light? Things may not have been as simple as they seem to you now."
"Yes, I know. I know nothing of the workings of state, I cannot know his mind and yet it seems cruel beyond reason to do such a thing."
"Leadership, the greater good, can often be cruel to the minority, Legolas. It is not a perfect system, but it is the best we have."
Legolas considered this for a moment. He could not bring himself to defend what his grandfather had done, but now, neither could he condemn it for Glorfindel was right. There were things Legolas knew nothing about, and until such time as he could understand, he would simply abstain - keep his judgement to himself. He had been attracted to the spear without the knowledge that it had been Oropher's weapon of choice; it was a simple coincidence and he would think no more on it.
"Glorfindel," said Legolas as they made their way back to the manor. "When can I begin the Qalma Liltie?" he asked, watching the commander.
"Not yet. You must first be a master of the blades. Only then will I begin your training.
"But that may take many months yet…"
"Not so many Legolas. Two, perhaps, if you are diligent, and I know you will be."
"Two months…" he trailed off, disappointment dripping from the words.
Glorfindel chuckled. "That would be record time, Legolas. Do not be disappointed, and even then, I have yet to see you spar seriously with the twin knives- you may surprise me," he said happily, watching as a tentative smile twitched on Legolas' lips.
"It will leave us little time for the dance before I am to return," said Legolas.
"Undoubtedly, but that project is a long one, child. It will be years before you and I dance the Qalma Liltie. You will return to your forests and perhaps we can find a way for you to come here again. Who can say. We can, however, initiate the rites…"
"Rites?" asked Legolas frowning.
"Oh yes, did you not know…?" asked Glorfindel quietly, his deep blue eyes turning almost black as his pupils dilated and Legolas startled for a moment. He would have asked for details, but it was too late, for they were already crossing the threshold and striding into the Hall of Fire.
"They will be here in two days. It is predictable that…"
"My Lords," said Glorfindel as he approached with Legolas and sat. "Who is arriving?" he asked as he poured two glasses of wine and pushed one towards Legolas.
"Envoys from Thranduil," said Elrond, his eyes slipping towards Legolas for a moment. "There has not been enough time for the Greenwood warriors to arrive home - these messengers were sent before, without the knowledge contained in the missives we sent with Commander Celegon.
"Which means," added Erestor, "the king will state his intentions regarding the appearance of young Legolas here," he said thoughtfully. Handir remained silent and pensive, while Legolas himself sat rigid in his chair.
He felt like a punished child, as if he had done something wrong and would now be judged and duly punished, and yet he had done nothing save to have the bad luck of being born a bastard - it was not his fault and yet here he sat, rigid and fretting over his own future. A spark of anger flared inside him for what had he done to deserve this?
"Legolas," came the sudden voice, cutting through his angry thoughts.
"Handir," answered Legolas.
"Do not fret, the king will be benevolent," he said confidently.
"Benevolent?" he asked incredulously, his voice low and disbelieving, "and I should give thanks for that? Tell me, my Prince, what have I done that I should be judged? That our king may show me benevolence? What are my crimes?"
"That is not what I meant, Legol
as. I meant only to reassure you. Nothing untoward will happen."
"How can you possibly know that? You yourself have said your relationship with the king has been distant for centuries. Are you sure your judgement is sound in this?" he asked doubtfully. "All it will take will be for him to call me back to the woods and my future, my dreams, will be stilted. Do you think he understands that? Do you think he knows me at all?"
"No, he does not, and yet I know my father, Legolas."
"I am glad for you, Handir, for I do not. But I believe it is better to speak plainly than to offer useless reassurances - they do not convince me at all."
"What would you have me say, Legolas? That I do not know how he will react when he learns that the son he created to save the life of his lover is not in Valinor but here? That you were not enough to save her? That I do not know if he will love you anyway, or hate you for taking her life? That I do not know if he will open his heart to the Silvan people and embrace you, or listen to the Sindarin purists and send you away in disgrace? Nay - these are your thoughts, Legolas, they are not mine. I do not believe he will turn against you."
Legolas stared wide-eyed at his brother, for the prince had enumerated one by one his fears, had understood exactly what he was thinking, and he was suddenly ashamed of his outburst.
"Forgive me," he said, duly chastised, before he smiled softly. "You did, indeed, speak plainly, and I see your understanding of my predicament."
Handir nodded, before continuing, oblivious to Erestor's approving gaze. "You cannot change what has happened, Legolas. We can only make the most of what we have, use it to construct, not to destroy."
Legolas gazed long on his brother. His almost silver hair shone beautifully in the half light - he could see his own face there, a similarity that could not be denied, and for the first time, Legolas could not say that disturbed him.
"Your words are wise, Prince," said Legolas softly. "Self pity will do me no good," he said resolutely, and Handir smiled.
"You are, surprisingly, not dissimilar to my elder brother, Rinion," began Handir. "He is hardy and resolute, a warrior. He has a strong character and a heart so soft he shields it under the guise of steel - as if he were impermeable - unbreakable and yet, he is, perhaps, the most vulnerable of us all."
"And," said Legolas with an insecure glance at Handir, "you have a sister…" he asked.
"We, have a sister, aye. Maeneth. She stays with our cousin Lord Celeborn in Lorien. She has been there for five hundred years."
"Why so long?" asked Legolas, for that was tantamount almost to Legolas' entire life.
"She asked it. After the events in the Greenwood, she was still so young, needed the guidance of the parents she no longer had. Rinion was beside himself in anger and I was too young to do anything about it. It was Celeborn himself that suggested he take Maeneth and tutor her.
"What is she like?" asked Legolas, his eyes now far away.
"She's lovely, Legolas, albeit I have not seen her for so long her features blur in my mind. I cannot rightly say what kind of adult she has become - it has been too long."
"Speaking of Lorien," interrupted Elrond, "I have spoken to Galadriel and - she has a suggestion."
"Oh? asked Glorfindel. "About what?"
"About Legolas' gift," he said simply. Handir glanced at his brother, as Legolas' eyes were now riveted on Elrond.
"She suggests we provoke an incident. I must see how this works Legolas, if I am to help you control it."
"I am not…"
"I know, Legolas - it frightens you and that is only logical. The Valar know I understand you in this. But you cannot spend the rest of your life afraid of yourself. You must understand how this works, and when you do, you will be able to use it, control it."
"How can we do this?" asked Glorfindel, sitting forward in his seat.
"Meet me tomorrow after lunch in the gardens, Legolas. I am not sure myself how to do this, but perhaps something will occur to us."
Legolas looked miserable, for he was tired, and emotionally exhausted, and if you added to that the anxiety that had taken hold of him before tomorrow's experiment, all he wanted to do was curl up in his bed and sleep, forget it all.
"You are tired," said Elrond knowingly.
"Yes. If I may, I would retire. I have an early start on the field tomorrow."
"Of course. Rest well, Legolas," said Elrond with a critical eye.
Bowing to the lords and prince, Legolas left, alone and pensive and although he was so very tired, he doubted sleep would come easy to him that night.
Legolas' heart thumped uncomfortably in his chest. Just the mere thought of seeing the shock and fear on the faces of those around him, knowing it would be because of him, because of his eyes - it was enough to turn his stomach; but that was not the full of it. Legolas had always been unnerved at the thought of some other entity entering his mind. Indeed he did not even know if that was actually what happened, and therein lay the only reason why he had acceded to such an experiment.
The day had been granted to him, and whilst The Company toiled upon the training fields with Elladan and the Noldor, Legolas would spend the day with Elrond in search of understanding his newly-found gift. He still wondered at the term, for although it had been useful to him on the journey here, and before, during the fire in the forest, the very fact that he did not know where it came from, why it had been bestowed upon him - the knowledge that he could not control it, that it controlled him…
Soon enough, Legolas spotted Elrond sitting upon a bench together with Glorfindel and spite of his apprehension and nervousness, he smiled at the unexpected presence of his mentor, his friend.
"Good morning!" said Glorfindel jovially.
"Morning," answered Legolas sullenly, wondering why the commander was in such an enviably good mood.
"Today will be a great day, child. We will finally get to see what it is you are gifted with, and, we visit the smith, design a weapon for you."
Elrond smiled at Glorfindel, knowing he was enjoying himself as he had not done for many years. He had found a kindred spirit in Legolas and Elrond recognised that for what it was.
"Come sit, Legolas, gestured Elrond. "I have been reading, investigating similar cases to your own, reports of Silvan and Avarin Listeners and the likes."
"And what do they say?" asked Legolas, his vulnerability now clear for the lords to see. He was frightened, and it irked him that he could not hide it.
"While similar in some ways, what you have reported is, as yet, undocumented. This is new, whatever it is. What can be learned today will not only benefit you, Legolas, but any others who share this ability with you."
"How are we to go about this?" asked Glorfindel.
"I do not know, my friend. Legolas?"
"I have no idea, my Lord. Perhaps, if we just walk and I am left to my own mind - "
"Alright. Wander freely Legolas and we will follow. Clear your mind, think of nothing save for that which surrounds you. Focus if you can, on the trees, open yourself as best you can and if anything happens, do not startle, do not be afraid - you are safe with us…"
Legolas held Elrond's gaze for a while, before nodding, and moving away from the bench. With a deep breath, he cast his eyes around the gardens and then began to walk.
It was cold but the sun shone brightly upon his path. The air was laden with the smell of wet soil and the chatter of robins and wrens that flittered here and there.
Upon a branch, sat a wren, its beady black eyes resting on Legolas cooly. Legolas smiled at it before continuing along the path. Movement at the base of another tree caught his eye - a field mouse sat upon its hind legs, eyes watching Legolas as he passed by. He smiled again, blessing his luck this morning, for in spite of the nature of this apparently leisurely stroll, it was turing out to be enjoyable, as if Spring were already here.
He could no longer sense the presence of the lords behind him, albeit he knew they were there, watching his every move.
&nb
sp; The wren flew past him then and he stopped in his tracks to watch its merry dance, scowling as his mind asked him how he had known - how he had known it was the same wren he had seen perched upon a branch sometime before. Yet the question did not fully register and Legolas continued to walk, his feet carrying him forward as his mind cast its attention here and there.
A finch, a thrush, a mole and and a squirrel, even a butterfly flitted close to his face and again, his rational mind surfaced for a brief moment - 'it is winter and yet…'
But his joy was too great to listen and he chuckled like a young child in the midst of a spring field, opening his arms and turning on his heel, his long hair fanning around him as he tilted his head to the sun and closed his eyes in a rare moment of bliss.
On he walked, passing a wooden fence that was only half open. Entering this, more secluded area, Legolas slowed his pace to study his new surroundings. It was darker here and for a moment it felt more like home for the darkness was not attributable to the shadows cast by the trees - it was a different kind of shadow that lived here.
His smile slipped and he closed his eyes. A feeling of dread was slowly settling in his gut, a sadness that was seeping through his skin. His eyes registered the overgrown gardens, the shrivelled bushes and the leaf fall that had not been cleared. These gardens were not well kept, he realised.
Something had happened here…
Legolas turned, his mind tingling with a nascent sense of alert - how did he know that?
Do not approach the tree - the sentinel.
He frowned and his stomach pinched in anguish, for that uncomfortable feeling of dread was back - was his mind talking to himself, or where these the thoughts of others - of the trees?
His breathing accelerated a little as he resumed his slow, now hesitant step, but then his head turned to the side as a strange noise came to his ears.
Distant at first, it sounded strange, like a tin whistle poorly played. Shaking his head his eyes now darted around him apprehensively, until they landed once more upon a small wren, perched upon the gnarled branch of a sickly oak.
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