A Question of Loyalty
Word Count: 1,639
Rating: K+/PG
Disclaimer: Normally I'm wittier, but... I got nothing. I would say I own nothing, but that's not true. I created the original characters that are driving the plot, so... I guess I own something.
Summary: Pre-fellowship/AU. A young Legolas asks his friend for an oath of loyalty. His friend cannot give it.
Author's Note: I was actually working a bit on trying to finish up Storms in Middle Earth when my laptop display up and quit working. I am hoping it is a loose cord, but it is possible that it is not and the laptop is gone. So... there may be a delay in getting that last part done as I am without the changes I made to that document.
That leads me back to this small piece... I was in the middle of that ending when I was compelled to stop and go through this. This is almost the key to Firyavaryar, I think, and it certainly reveals a lot about why he says what he does in No Peace in Imladris and a few things in Storms, too. I think, unless I really want to write a whole novel about him and why he does all he does, this is the answer.
A Question of Loyalty
"Swear an oath."
"What?"
Legolas sat down next to his friend, smiling as he did. "I think I understand it now. The way to silence idiots like Nengalen and Tirweg forever. I should have thought of it before, but now I know what we need. It is so simple."
Firyavaryar groaned. "The last time we went for one of your simple ideas, you almost drowned in the enchanted river and I got accused of trying to kill the prince."
Legolas grimaced. That had been one of his stupider ideas, and it had almost worked, but then Idhrenion had distracted Varyar at the worst moment, and they had almost all gone in the river. Still, that was one time, and this was different. "I am not talking about tempting fate with the river. I am talking about you swearing an oath of fealty to me. Well, to my father, actually."
Varyar blinked. "What?"
"Everyone says that you are no good because Avari are not on the journey, because that supposedly makes you loyal to no one and nothing—and that is not true. I know that you are very loyal, and all you have to do is show that loyalty to them. You are devoted to your family, and you are my best friend. So if you swore to serve my father as a loyal member of his kingdom, they would have to stop saying that you would turn on us and are trying to corrupt us."
The other elfling frowned. "I do not think that a simple pledge could take away all of that fear and distrust. People want to hate me because I am Avari. I accept that."
"You shouldn't have to."
"Legolas, we have had this discussion before. You are the loyal one. I am not. Let it be."
The prince shook his head. "No. I cannot. I do not see why you cannot make such a promise. You know that it is more than just you that you would be protecting. You would be protecting your family as well. You would be a member of my father's dominion and all that entails."
Firyavaryar nodded, and Legolas almost got excited when he saw his friend considering it. This could fix all of their troubles. As soon as Varyar swore that oath, no one could speak against him again. This was just what they needed.
"No," Varyar said, lowering his head. "I cannot."
"What? Why not?"
"Varyar, we must talk."
He nodded, turning a page in the book for his brother, and Idhrenion gave him a smile, taking his hand and pointing to a word that he did not understand. "Arnediad. Endless. Innumerable."
"Like elves?" Idhrenion asked, almost excited. "Like us?"
Firyavaryar forced a smile for him but gave his mother a pointed look. Someone could have mentioned to all of them that they were elves—Firstborn—before he ended up fighting their new neighbors over what he had thought was an insult to his brother. He still felt foolish when he thought of it, but they had lived in isolation for most of his life until recently. "Yes, Idhrenion. Like us."
"Can I see your ears again?"
"Idhrenion—"
"Firyavaryar, now," Calathiel said, a warning to her voice, and Sérëdhiel set down her sewing, crossing over to where he sat. Varyar rose, and she slid into his place next to Idhrenion, wrapping her arm around their brother as she took over reading for him.
Calathiel put her hand on Varyar's back, leading him into the other room. He frowned at his mother, not certain what he had done to be in trouble this time. "Nana, I did not do anything wrong. I know that you are still angry over that fight with the edain boys in the village—"
"I am not," Calathiel said, giving him a sad smile. "I know why you fought with them, and I do not know that I can fault you for it. That is why we must speak. Your father was to have this conversation with you, but I am not certain he will be able to—there is so much that you should be told and we do not know how much time we have."
Varyar frowned. "I do not understand. What is this?"
She reached forward, placing her hands on his cheeks. "Ion-nín, I love you, and I know what I am going to ask you will not be easy, but I must have your promise, the most sacred promise you can give me, your strongest oath, one you will not break under any circumstance."
He swallowed. "You are—you worry me, Nana. The way you are talking—"
"There is trouble coming, and you will have to be strong if anything happens to us. You will be all that your brother and sister will have, and I need you to promise me that you will always take care of them, that you will protect them—that you will do what you must to save them. Anything that you must do, I know that you will do it. You are a good son, a good brother, but you must become what we named you—a protector."
"Nana, I do not—"
"Promise me, Firyavaryar. Promise me that you will always care for your brother and sister, that you will keep them from the darkness, that you will sacrifice whatever must be given so that they are free. Promise me that they will always be first, even if you love others."
Varyar nodded, fear settling into his stomach. His mother would not ask this of him if she was not terrified herself, and he did not want to think about what would take her and his father from them, but he knew that if they did die—elves are not supposed to die; this cannot be happening—that he would watch over his siblings for the rest of his life.
"I promise."
"You know that you are mine, young one. Why is it that you keep trying to deny that?"
Varyar turned away from the voice, not wanting to be touched again. Ogol would hurt him for his defiance, and he did not know how much more he could endure of that. He felt so weak, and he hated himself for it. He would have given anything to fade, but Ogol would not let him.
He knew there were other reasons why he should not. He had given his word to protect his brother and sister, and they were out there alone, without anyone to care for them. His mother was dead, his father probably gone, and he was here with this monster, unable to help them.
"I am not yours," he whispered. He could never be what this thing wanted—he had sworn his allegiance elsewhere long ago, and he would not forsake that oath. He did not know how he could protect them now, but his loyalty belonged to his family. It always would. Nothing Ogol could do to him would change that.
He would wait, and he would find a way back to them, and he would never let them fall into Ogol's hands. He would die protecting his brother and sister. He understood that now. He even welcomed it.
"Varyar?"
The other elfling shook his head. "No, Legolas. I am sorry, but I cannot give you that oath. My loyalty is to my family first. Always. You are my dearest friend, and I would call you gwador, but Idhrenion and Sérëdhiel are my responsibility. I must see to them first before all else. I cannot make that oath."
Legolas frowned, not quite understanding why his friend would think that he could not serve the king and take care of his family—serving the king would protect his family—but he did not need the oath. He had never needed it. He had only thought it was a good way to make Tirweg and Nengalen stop bothering his Firyavaryar and making stupid accusations against him just because he was an Avari.
"Very well. You are still my friend, aren't you?"
Firyavaryar nodded. "Yes, Legolas, I am still your friend. I would like to be your friend always."
Legolas looked at him. "You are always telling me what a poor friend you are, how you cannot be my friend because you are Avari, and you do not let me say you are good. Yet you do want to be my friend?"
"Remember your story of that human that got the elf-maiden? He wanted the impossible."
"He got the impossible."
"Yes, and your friendship should be an impossible thing, for those who are fortunate enough to have it know that you will follow them anywhere and give them anything and fight beside them and for them and even possibly die for them."
Legolas thought he felt a bit uncomfortable hearing it like that. "It is nothing you would not do for me. I know that, too."
"Only if it would not hurt my family or leave them unprotected. I could not do that."
"I know," Legolas told him. "Let us make a different oath. It is a promise of friendship and loyalty, yes, but it is one you can still make because I will not ask you to put me before your family. You and I will be the loyalest, greatest of friends, but we will never demand more of each other than the other can give. I will not ask of you something that would endanger your family, and you will not ask of me anything that would go against my father's wishes."
Varyar snorted. "We go against your father's wishes every time we play together."
Legolas laughed. "True. Very well—You will never ask of me anything that would harm my father or the kingdom. Agreed?"
"Agreed."