The Sylvanus

by Oliver McBride

  He moved to stand, but his hip cramped and he groaned, his angry words dying on his tongue.

  Slowly straightening himself, he felt Rinion stand beside him, a cool hand on his forearm.

  With a deep breath, Legolas tried to centre himself. "I do not wish to argue with you, Rinion. I was asked here to meet Maeneth, and it is my pleasure to do so, but you I do not understand."

  "Legolas," said Rinion, "I did not understand myself, until yesterday…"

  Legolas frowned. "No one changes in but a day, Rinion."

  "I did not change - I realised, I understood."

  Legolas did not speak, he just looked at his brother, clearly expecting him to continue, and he did.

  Rinion sighed and turned so that he could pace as he spoke. He was not accustomed to admitting fault and yet it had to be done. To ignore this would be to perpetuate the antagonism and that was clearly out of the question.

  "You saved Handir's life, even unto the death of your dearest friend," he began patiently, "and then just yesterday, you saved mine for no one except you would have reached that orc in time. I asked you to prove yourself to me and you did."

  "Tell me, Rinion," asked Legolas, "why would you have me prove myself to you? For if that were truly necessary, then would not the opposite also be true, that you should prove yourself to me? You speak as if there is a debt between us - one I should pay. But let me guess," he said sarcastically, "you think perhaps that it is my fault or that it was my mother's fault that you were left alone, without your own mother, your sister… "

  "Of course it was her fault…"

  "It was not! You cannot command love, Rinion - I do not think you understand it because you do not love - you are cold and incapable of it."

  Handir made to speak but Maeneth stopped him with a shake of her head. "Listen," she whispered, "and understand." Handir held her eyes, seemingly unsure of the wisdom of it, but he nodded his consent all the same.

  Rinion's face hardened and his eyes glittered dangerously. "You truly are a fool then, for I have loved. I loved my mother and I love my sister and my brother - they know this," he shouted as he pointed at them. "You are the only fool who cannot see it."

  "I cannot see it because you do not allow me to … you hide your feelings from me and yet you expect me to understand them? Who is the idiot? You blame my mother for all your hurts, and every time you look at me I remind you, don't I? You think that if you scorn me you scorn the one you think ruined your life."

  "That much is true, yes. But make no mistakes - Lassiel - was wrong to pursue my father after he was wed and she was wrong to conceive a child under those circumstances - she is no innocent."

  Legolas' nostril's flared and his eyes slanted dangerously. "You simply do not get it - you speak as if she had a choice! As if she could just push her love for our father away because that was her duty - it doesn't work that way, damn you. And even if it did, then our father would have been equally at fault. But tell me, Rinion - how do you allow half of your soul to die? simply allow it to slip away because that is your duty! It cannot be done yet you cannot see it!"

  "You are young, you do…"

  "Listen to my arguments, Rinion, do not use my age against me. Duty, you say - then for the sake of understanding, let us follow your line of reasoning…. Oropher -"

  "Do not bring him into this…"

  "He is already in it - necessarily - that is where it started Rinion. He denied our father the love he chose, because some scheming Sindas decided he should marry a Sindarin noble - who? who?! do you think would benefit from that? Answer me!" he shouted and Rinion's eyes widened, yet he did not speak.

  "I will answer that for you. Your mother, your mother's family…"

  Maeneth and Handir stood abruptly, seeing the look in their brother's eyes…

  "Don't…" warned Rinion quietly.

  "They schemed and they planned and they did it so well even our mighty King Oropher was fooled into believing that my mother was a whore!" he spat, his wrath rising with word.

  A resounding slap echoed between them and Legolas slowly, brought himself to stand straight once more. His green eyes glittered as they bored into Rinion's stubborn, rigid face, a face that soon turned red as he gasped, the wind knocked out of him as he doubled forward and Legolas stood back to watch in satisfaction.

  "Now tell me about duty, Rinion? What was the king's duty then? To assume the lies were simply nonsense, or to believe them and ruin his son's life… what should he have chosen, Rinion?"

  "He chose well," began Rinion, his voice still unsteady, "and even if he doubted he would not have been able to prove it. The people would not have listened…"

  "What people? The Sindar? Less than a quarter of our population would not have approved, and the entire forest would have rejoiced…. what was his duty, Rinion? To keep his people content, or to keep his Sindarin people content?

  Rinion stood rigid, bristling and yet, no words left him, he could not refute his brother's words.

  "You blame my mother for this mess, and I blame our grandfather."

  "You are good at seeking the blame - have you tried to understand?"

  "Of course I have."

  "Then try this. Take yourself back to a time, long ago, when the Sindar had only just arrived, when the kingdom was newly constituted. Decisions were made, society was organised and legislated and the game for power would have been brutal. The Silvan people were fragmented, living in villages that ruled themselves. They had no nobles, no rulers. Enter Oropher and his Crown Prince Thranduil, who has found for himself a Silvan lover… 'nay' says Oropher but his son insists and so he accedes - only to find that his recently constituted Council says 'nay' - do you follow me so far?"

  "Yes…"

  "Now, they say 'nay' and they say - 'careful, Oropher, for we have accepted you as king, but so too do we have the power to take that privilege away. Of course the king may say that he would do anything for the happiness of his son but what if he had relinquished his title then, so that his son could marry the elf he loved? In the hands of whom, would he have left the realm? Do you see my meaning, Legolas…"

  "Bandorion, you speak of Bandorion…"

  "Yes," said Rinion triumphantly, I speak of Bandorion for you see even then, Oropher would know his brother well, would not have left the kingdom in his hands, not even for the happiness of his own son…"

  Legolas blinked and looked to the floor.

  "He was blackmailed …"

  "Oh yes," said Rinion, "the battle for power would have been an ugly thing; Bandorion's moment was back then and he saw his chance. Oropher never had a choice, Legolas, he did not choose to ruin his son's life - Bandorion did that for him."

  "I never realised it would have been like that, I thought Oropher was exalted, unquestioned…"

  "He was, later when everything slipped into place and he proved himself as a great king."

  "Glorfindel told me as much. He said that if Oropher had done what he had, there must have been a very good reason for it… but all this goes to prove my point - it was not my mother that sent yours away."

  "Alright, I can concede that much, just as you have conceded that it was not Oropher either…"

  Some of the tension left Legolas and he turned back to Rinion. "It is so convoluted, so tangled and so tragic," he whispered finally and Rinion nodded his agreement.

  "In this I know I have been unfair, Legolas. I have always vented my anger on you for it was easy - to hate you - to believe your mother and your very existence were the bane of mine, indeed I just defended that very same argument not minutes past," he admitted with a guilty glance at his sister. "I know that is not the case. You have already proved yourself to me, and now, perhaps, it is time for me to do the same. I do not say today or tomorrow - but for now, you do have another brother, if you want him."

  Legolas stared, shocked and struck utterly dumb, the fight fast leaving him. Covering the last few steps that separated from his elder brother, his
eyes latched on to the icy blue irises that stared back at him openly, for the first time. Legolas would ponder that moment later, for that simple moment of unguarded emotion from his elder brother seemed to unlock a door in his own mind, where all his younger life had been tucked away, safe from the judgement of others - it was time to unlock it, he realised.

  "I - I have spent most of my life hating the father I never knew," he said softly. Turning away from Rinion, and sinking back down onto the lawn beside Handir and Maeneth, knowing that Rinion followed suit.

  "No one would tell me of him, not even to assure me that he had been a good elf. My conclusion, child that I was, was that he was dead, and that some dreadful family shame surrounded him - an exile perhaps. I chose to believe he had died in shame for the alternative was too terrible - that he had simply left me behind, that he had not cared. And so I spent the rest of my childhood defending myself against the cruelty of others.

  A soft hand stroked his cheek but he would not look at the elf sitting beside him, for if he did he would surely lose his nerve and speak no more.

  "I was Silvan, in every way, but I knew my father must have been a Sinda, for so said my face, the colour of my hair…"

  "Tell us, Legolas, help us to understand…" pleaded Maeneth.

  He heard her, but again he did not acknowledge the fact, for his mind had started down a path there would be no returning from - it would not be distracted.

  "I told myself that he was Sinda, that he was dead, and that he had erred in some way, and every time someone called me a Sinda, I would be angry and correct them. 'I am Silvan,' I would say and then watch as they laughed," he said with a frown, as if he still could not believe the cruelty.

  "I told myself I no longer cared, that I had no father, no family save for my aunt, Amareth, but therein began my delusion. None of it mattered, I was strong, I did not need a father, did not need a family…

  And then one day, Lainion told me the truth and I was devastated. I could not believe it, the only thing I kept repeating was that it could not be, for my father was dead… and yet Lainion told me he lived, that he was a king - my king…

  I had two brothers and a sister… siblings! yet I knew I would never truly have them for they were princes and I was a bastard - they would not want me in their lives. But then Handir came," he said softly as he smiled, "and I started to believe I had been wrong - that there was a family that perhaps - over time - I could call my own.

  It was a dream," he said passionately, his bright eyes looking at his siblings, pleading with them to understand. "I could never have imagined that I would one day call another elf 'brother, sister, father…'

  "And then I spoiled it…." said Rinion flatly.

  "Not spoiled, Rinion, for I already had Handir, and our father had shown his willingness to accept me, but this is the reason that you irritated me so - the reason I resented you so much was because you mattered to me… and yet I did not matter to you. I only ever had one dream in my life, I wanted to be a Captain," he smiled through his unshed tears, and then, just one year ago another dream began to haunt me - I wanted a family… to be a bastard no more…to feel proud of who I was."

  Maeneth dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief and Handir sniffled.

  "And you have that now, brother," said Rinion. It starts today, if we want it to. I do not say you and I will not argue, for I am sure we will," he smiled, "but we will be siblings, we will make it work. And, after five years, you will be a Captain, with a family, and then - you will need more dreams for yours will already be reality."

  Legolas' eyes were too full and one tear escaped him for Rinion's words rang so true, had touched his raw heart and he swiped angrily at it.

  "You do not know how lucky you are," he smiled. "To have grown with a mother, a father, brothers and sisters - that rock, that solid ground beneath your young feet that later you use to project yourself into the world. That warm, comforting place to return to … it is a blessing…"

  Rinion stared at the warrior before him, his little brother - the brave, courageous warrior that all children wanted to be - kneeling now with tears in his eyes - no, he was not weak for it was just as Maeneth had said, to feel so deeply was, indeed, the root of Legolas' strength.

  "And what of our father," said Handir, snapping Rinion out of his own thoughts. "Are you at peace with him, Legolas?"

  "Not entirely, Handir. There is an unfinished conversation between us, one that we cannot have until I have found the answers I now seek."

  "Oh?" asked Rinion. "What questions?"

  "I must know my mother, understand her, learn exactly what happened that day in the forest. I will travel there soon, after the festivities and when I return, I will speak with our father."

  A servant entered the garden and was now depositing fresh lemonade upon a nearby stone table. With a bow, he left them alone once more, and Handir was already pouring four glasses. Rinion frowned and then looked up at the balcony that was his father's, and there he was, Thranduil king, staring down upon the four siblings from afar.

  Legolas stood and repressed a wince as he rubbed his hip and walked around a little. "Elladan is going to kill me," he muttered.

  "Your friendship with him is remarkable," said Handir. "Even in Imladris when you had only just met, there was an affinity between you."

  "Yes," smiled Legolas. "There are friendships that go down in history - Glorfindel and Oropher, Beleg and —-, Legolas and Elladan," he grinned.

  "Drink, brothers," said Rinion as he handed them their glasses, "for today is one I shall always remember. I gained a fool, Silvan brother," he smiled, and then drank, while the others followed suit with a roll of their eyes.

  "Why do these flowers not bloom?" asked Legolas, gesturing towards the fruitless leaves of a rose bush, and his siblings were silent once more, their eyes moving between each other. It was Handir, though, who finally spoke.

  "Those are Aglareb's roses, Legolas. They do not bloom," said Handir sadly.

  Legolas heard the pain behind Handir's words and he wondered what would happen should he approach them. He was reminded of the sentinel in Elrond's own gardens, remembered how he had lost himself in the pain it had harboured, and how he had lost control… but he rather thought that now, perhaps he would be able to control it - knowing what he did.

  Tomorrow, perhaps, when the ceremony was over, and probably best before the Silvan revelry began, he snorted to himself, he would put himself to the test, and if he passed, he would gift his sister with a single, perfect rose.

  The people smiled, warriors saluted, and children squealed in delight as he passed, and Legolas couldn't remember a time in which he had been happier. He was at peace with Amareth, had gained a great aunt in Marhen who was fast becoming a rock in his life. He had another brother, Rinion, and a beautiful, wise sister in Maeneth; there was also the promise of a friendship with Llyniel, whose father had finally sent word of his consent that very same morning.

  There was only one thing left for him to do now. Seek the tree of his birth and learn what he may, for if there were indeed, more answers to be had, only there would he find them. Once he had seen it done, he would return to the fortress and speak with his father at last, close the wound that had stood open since he had been old enough to have conscience of himself. It would mark the end of the mystery that his life had been, complete his story, give to him a past he had never had, and had always feared.

  He had escaped Narosén, Amareth and Marhen, and had taken himself to the river to bathe, for he had wanted just a few moments to himself, to think and to centre himself. His stomach churned at the thought of the day's events - and the evening that would follow for it would be full of pomp and protocol. It was not that he did not understand it, but he had always imagined himself on the observing end of it, for Legolas was a warrior, not a prince.

  And yet with today's ceremony, he realised he would, paradoxically, become freer than he had been these past few weeks. He would be Warlord, an
d, after a brief visit into the deep forest, he would return to his duties under the guidance of Captain Duronel. Five years - it would lend him five years of relative calm in which to learn and prepare and after that… well, time would tell, he mused, for to see past that moment was nigh on impossible for him.

  His mind sharpened, back in the present once more and he watched as giggling young ladies waved at him and then laughed and ran, their innocence bringing a smile to his face for the first time that morning. Children and young lads climbed the trees, hanging all manner of decorations upon their branches, and not one seemed to have been left without a coloured glass lantern which would later give them soft light in which to dance and to kiss.

  They too, poked their heads around the thick tree limbs and smiled at him as he passed. They did it for him, for their families and their people, for their warriors - they felt important once more, proud of who they were and Legolas quickened his step for who was he to deny them this moment?

  His self-indulgent thoughts disappeared as quickly as they had invaded him. This was his duty, to bring the forest together - he would not let them down - he would not let himself down. He would do as Lainion and Handir has asked of him. He would shine - for them.

  The fortress was akin to a beehive, buzzing with tempered excitement and frenetic activity. Elves scurried here and there, carrying boxes and bags, chests and scrolls, and even now, the Great Hall was still being decked for the occasion. Standards hung from the vaulted ceilings, the noble houses of the Sindar represented proudly upon thick velvet and golden inlay, relics of the elder days when heroes still existed, when the people still believed in them.

  Only sturdy, wooden shutters separated the Great Hall from the Great Plateau that jutted out majestically, high above the Evergreen Wood, hidden treasure of Thranduil's realm. Those shutters stood wide open now, for the first time in many centuries for the king had ordered that their secret be shielded no more, for such beauty, he had said, should never been hidden away.