Maewen
When the first rumours reach my ears I am unbelieving. My cousin works for the King, not a position of importance but close enough that he sees and hears more about the Royal family than I do—at least more then I do when Legolas is not here. He pulls me aside one night after dinner, and he is agitated.
"Something happens between the King and Queen, Maewen. Have you heard anything? Did Legolas say anything to you before he left for the south?"
Legolas has said not a word and I tell him so. Before he left his mind was on the unfairness of our separation, he was full of anger with his father for the interference in our lives. I highly doubted that was what caused my cousin such distress.
"Something? You have to give me more than that, Faerthurin. What do you mean?"
He leans in to me, voice low and hushed and whispers with urgency.
"They say the Queen is leaving."
And I laugh out loud for it is so ridiculous.
"Do not be such an idiot, you fool! You should stop listening to the kitchen maids gossip."
"Perhaps you are right," he shrugs. "It does feel far fetched but they were certain. But if Legolas has said nothing . . ."
"He has said nothing Faerthurin." And with that I dismiss the conversation from my mind, for it is far too ludicrous to be true.
It is only a day later I see him waiting for me beside the training fields. It is a strange occurrence to see him there for he does not usually seek me out and when I reach him I see he is white-faced and anxious.
"Do you remember what I spoke to you of yesterday?" He says urgently, his voice barely a whisper as he pulls me to one side.
"You are still not obsessing about that ridiculous gossip. Faerthurin?" It is so unlike him. He is not usually so shallow as to listen to a word the chattering palace girls say.
"It is not gossip!" He hisses, "It is true."
"I told you it is not true!" I have had enough. I am busy and it upsets me to hear such scandalous lies about things that would hurt my Legolas.
"Listen to me, Maewen." He holds on to my arm, preventing me from walking away from him. "I tell you it is true. The Queen is leaving, any day now. The King cannot prevent it though he has tried. You should hear the arguments—they are ferocious. She is going. She will sail to Valinor."
I am shocked. Surely he has this wrong? But he lives in the caves, he works with the King, can he be as wrong as this?
"If this is some kind of joke, Faerthurin, it is a cruel one," I say, tight lipped and angry, for surely it must be that.
"I do not joke, Maewen. I would not make fun of my King and Queen. What do you take me for?"
He is right. That would be so unlike him and suddenly my blood runs cold within my veins. She would leave us?
"If it is true—"
"It is true!" He interrupts me with assertions before I can even begin,
"If it is true, Faerthurin, then she will not leave immediately. Legolas is not due back from the south for weeks."
"She goes in two days, Maewen. Two days. Arrangements are being made already."
It is then the full horror of the situation hits me for this...this cannot be true.
"Legolas does not know this, Faerthurin. He does not know!"
"I know that," he says bluntly, "The King rages because she insists on leaving when their son knows not a thing about it. She will not wait. Believe me, Thranduil has tried to change her mind."
I am horrified and disbelieving. This will hurt Legolas so badly. It will destroy the fragile peace he has patched together since Laerion's death. How could she?
And so I find myself, later that evening, in the caves walking the corridors near the royal family's personal chambers, where I never venture unless Legolas sneaks me through here late at night to his room. If Faerthurin is right and the queen really will leave I must say something to her. I cannot let her do this and remain silent.
Of course if I had thought more clearly about this I would have realised I would not be able to simply stroll into her room for an audience. There is a guard outside and he glares at me sternly when I approach.
"I am not sure where you think you go to, Maewen, but the Queen requests no visitors. Nor would I allow you in in any case." I know him—the frowning guard—we trained together and he is a Silvan like me, from the forest. I have no clever reason for him to let me in, I am not that good at thinking on my feet. Instead I use the only weapon I have. My people's love for Legolas.
"I am here on behalf of Legolas," I say. "You know we are close." In fact we have gone to great lengths to make sure our relationship is not obvious . . . Especially to the Sindar, but my people know, our fellow archers know, and I know he knows.
"Legolas is in the south." He replies quickly, "and can hardly have sent word to you. How can you possibly be his messenger? If he had anything to say he would have sent it to the King."
"He has not sent word, that is true and even if he could he would not because he knows nothing of the queens plans. That is why I am here. Someone has to speak for him! Someone has to show her how Legolas will feel when he returns to her absence, someone who loves him."
He hesitates, there is a chink in his armour and I feel it.
"The King has already argued for Legolas. Do you suggest he does not love him?" he says in the end.
"I am a woman. I am outside the situation. Perhaps she can not listen to the King because of other issues?" I feel the beginning of desperation building. He has to let me in! "Legolas has had no voice in this, I only wish to be his voice."
"It is more than my job is worth to let you in here, Maewen!" He leans close dropping his voice low. "She is still our Queen and I cannot let all and sundry in to see her when I have orders otherwise. I sympathise, but I cannot do it!"
"I am not all and sundry!" But even as I protest I know he is right. Here, in the royal family's quarters I am only Maewen, just another Silvan warrior. I have no rights here. I am nothing special.
And then, as I raise my voice, the door opens.
"What is going on here?" It is the queen herself and we are both left spluttering and lost for words. "Maewen?" She recognises me, although I have seldom wandered here apart from the dead of night.
"I was hoping to see you, my lady." I am a stammering mess which will not help my cause at all. How I wish I had thought this through more carefully.
"Come in then." She smiles, but to me it seems lacking her normal warmth. She has always been light and joy, as long as I remember her and now something is missing. It makes me uneasy. I know ever since we lost Laerion she has been muted and quiet but this is something else.
Everywhere I look there are piles of belongings. Neat, organised piles and they bring home to me—this really is happening.
"It is true." I gasp it without realising, before my logical brain can hold my tongue, as I gaze around me in disbelief. Until now I have clung to the hope Faerthurin was somehow wrong.
"Yes," she says behind me and she is cool, calm and composed, "I am leaving. I assume that is why you are here."
"My lady . . . " I am at a loss where to go with this. How do I question my Queen? "Legolas . . . " I trail off hopelessly for I have no idea how to begin to explain what this will do to him. How can she not already know?
"I know what you are about to say," she is abrupt as she dismisses all my arguments before I have even made them. "I have heard it all from Thranduil." It annoys me, her dismissal of me, it ignites a fire that with it brings me courage.
"Then why are you leaving?" I bite back, "If he has told you it all? If he has spoken of Legolas' grief at the loss of you—of how much that will hurt him—why do you go?"
"I cannot stay here. You do not understand child, how could you?" Her voice fades always to something small and sad. "If I stay I will only hurt him more. I have lost my son . . . I can not see past that." She is right. How can I understand it? I, who have never had a child, how can I know what it must be like to lose one?
"You have lost one son. There is another still here!" I protest in Legolas' defence as I promised myself I would but in the face of her grief it begins to seem unfair. "At least wait until he is home. Do not do this to him, do not vanish without a goodbye."
"I do it to protect him!" She snaps, "So he will not have to face that goodbye. You saw him after Laerion's death. I do this to keep him safe. It is best this way."
"To protect him? Or to protect yourself?" Suddenly I see it clearly. She cannot stay and yet she cannot face leaving Legolas and so she runs away, so she will not have to tell him goodbye to his face. She is a coward. "This will not protect him. It will harm him!"
"Do not think to tell me what is best for my son, Maewen. You do not know him as I do."
"I know him better!"
"Oh you are but a foolish little girl." She is suddenly cold and cutting. With her voice alone she cuts me deep. "You know nothing of Legolas."
"I know he loves you." I will not give up so easily. Legolas is my jewel and I will fight for him with all my heart. "I know how hard he has fought to recover himself after Laerion. I know what it will do to him to return from the south to find you gone! I know I would not leave him as you plan to, without a farewell no matter how afraid I was."
She turns away from me as if my words matter not at all, as if they are but pebbles that bounce of her heart with no impact. I have always loved our Queen. She is light, she is beauty, she is soft kindness, she is one of us. But now, in this moment I find I do not like her at all. It is a lesson to me, the ravages grief can inflict upon a person until they are unrecognisable.
"I cannot stay, Maewen." She says at last, "I cannot stay and remain sane. My grief crushes me, it crushes all the love out of me and I will hurt Legolas, I will hurt all those I love if I remain here. But I cannot say goodbye to him either, how do you leave your child . . . Perhaps forever? I am trapped. This is my only way out."
I am not sure I agree with her. I am sure there must be another way, another answer,
but I cannot think of it now and I do pity her. I know she suffers, but Legolas suffers also. She will regret this I think, this choice she feels forced in to. She will regret it when she reaches the healing shores of Valinor and then what will she do?
"I think you should go," she still has her back to me but I can tell by her voice she means it. It is not up for discussion. "I have heard what you have to say Maewen. You will not change my mind on this."
So churning with frustration at my failure, I go. She is my queen after all and I have pushed my insolence and disobedience as far as it will go simply to get this audience with her. But I have failed Legolas. I have not made her see how wrong this is. I had one chance to convince her and I have been unable to find the words that will sway her heart.
"Maewen," she says my name as my hand reaches for the door and I look behind with the burst of a slight hope she may have thought on my words and wavered but no, "I would have you stay away from Legolas." It is a blunt command, it is an order from a queen to one less than her.
"I will not stay away from him!" She truly is mad if she thinks that is possible.
"No good will come of this," she says harshly, "from you and he. You are too silvan for him. You are too different." My father has told me the same but he is wrong also . . . They are both wrong and I wonder why they cannot see it.
And so I laugh in her face.
"We are not different! Legolas is as silvan as I am . . . More so. You are so wrong in this, as you are wrong in leaving him."
"Stay away from him." She hisses, "I command it."
But I have the upper hand now. She is leaving and her power goes with her.
"You have the right to command me no longer. You chose to leave us and I will stay with Legolas whether or not you wish it. Try and stop me from Valinor!"
The slamming of the door behind me as I go is so immensely satisfying.