Christine: thank you! and welcome aboard. Hope you like the next chapter :)
Ninde: Gracias amiga. Espero que te guste el próximo capítulo!
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Chapter three: Hwindo's Dream
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Afternoon turned to evening, and still Legolas sat with the captains. They spoke of the darkness, of the shifting patterns of the enemy and the need to act soon lest the Mirkwood spread even further than it already had. Yet he had not spoken of the strange emotions he had captured in the eyes of his most recent victims. His feelings were, as yet, too confused, too abstract - they would not understand for how did one explain that he had seen emotion behind the eyes of a beast reared for killing?
And so Legolas had finally broached the subject of his own agenda and a long and healthy debate had begun, the results of which had left him reeling even more than he already had been with his promotion, for he was Captain! Captain, he repeated to himself, and they had not opposed his idea at all.
Four years ago, everything had been against him - opposition had met him at every turn and yet now, it had been so very easy to make them see what he did, show them what it was he wished to achieve. His confidence was bolstered and all he needed now, was the approval of the king.
Euphoria was slowly building inside him yet for some reason, he quashed it, irritated almost with himself for allowing happiness to distract him from his purpose. There was no time for frivolity…
He was startled out of his thoughts by Thoron, who smiled indulgently at him.
"Your mind wanders," he said quite unnecessarily.
"I am tired, Thoron. I beg pardon."
"No need, Captain. Time to finish this debate I think," he said as the other captains nodded their agreement.
"Come tomorrow for your fitting. Turion and Dunorel will be your witnesses, Commander.
Legolas' mind grappled with the word, with being called commander and he almost laughed at himself, resisting the urge to shake his head as if he had just been clobbered. Standing, he held Thoron's gaze for a moment, before his eyes moved to Commander Celegon's. "I have no words to thank you for your confidence in me. I will show you - show you you are not wrong," he said with a somewhat forced smile, before adding, "'Tis simply …"
The severe, oftentimes dour commanders of the Inner Circle smiled sincerely at him, their hearts whispering that here was a legend in the making, their youngest commander, one they all knew would make history, one who had unwittingly wriggled his way into their sometimes cold hearts.
Soon, he was walking away, towards the fortress in a daze for his tired mind would not leave him alone. There was so much to think on. He wanted to celebrate, dance and drink; he wanted to plan and prepare, to gain his father's approval on his propositions, reunite The Company… He would write to Glorfindel and Amareth too, for this news would bring them great joy, he knew, and Thavron too, and yet he was so confoundedly tired.
His head was bursting, and he suddenly jumped when an elf stood in his path, unnervingly close to him now, staring straight at him with an intensity he had only ever seen in Elrond or Glorfindel. Idhrenohtar - the Wise Warrior, and behind him, the entire Company stood and watched.
His mind rushed uncomfortably back to the present and his eyes strayed, to Ram en' Ondo, Koron en' Naur, Glamohtar and Rhrawthir - to Lindohtar and Rafnohtar, and then to the one that was not of the Company and yet who Legolas recognised immediately - Galadan. He smiled timidly at first, and then wider until it turned into a giggle and before they knew it, they came together, standing amidst the curious onlookers and yet oblivious to them in their joyful, somewhat boisterous reunion.
He felt whole again, for the first time in four years. Here, there was no clumsiness, no awkwardness, no forced emotion.
Eventually though, it was Idhrenohtar who stepped back to look at his friend, Ram en' Ondo right beside him.
"You look like a spider victim…" he said flatly, his eyes dancing over his friend's face and body.
Legolas could not help the snort that escaped him. "Well thank you - you do not exactly look hale, Idhrenohtar, none of you do," he said, sobering now at the thought of what they had lived through these past four years, wondering if it had been anything like his own experience.
"We are all well, tired is all."
Legolas nodded but then his questioning eyes were back on Galadan.
"Galadan!" exclaimed Hwindohtar, truly pleased at the presence of the lieutenant he had served under on the way to Imladris.
"Hwindohtar," he smiled, clasping forearms. "'Tis good to see you," he said, his voice deep and commanding, his eyes soft and respectful - and curious.
"Hwindo," said Idhrenohtar. "We wish to propose Galadan as a member of The Company. We have served together in the Western patrol and he has proven himself to us many times. He is a noble elf and an able warrior with a vocation to achieve great things. He is already a master archer, like me," he added almost as an afterthought.
Legolas started and then beamed at his childhood friend. "You took it? You passed?!" he exclaimed.
"I did!" shouted the wise warrior, only now revealing the band upon his right bicep.
They hugged fiercely, Legolas slapping the Wise Warrior upon the back vigorously and making him giggle. Galadan watched them, visibly nervous for what Hwindo would say and yet inspired by the closeness of these warriors. He had already seen it with Idhrenohtar and Ram en', but the respect they held for this child was beyond anything he had seen - indeed he too felt it, ever since that day on the road to Imladris when he had realised who he was and impetuously called him prince.
"If Idhrenohtar says you are worthy, I will not gainsay him, indeed I know his words to be true, for did we not work well together that fateful day when Silor shamed himself?"
"That we did," smiled Galadan. "And yet we do not know each other well - I just," he stopped, struggling for words, "I feel an added sense of purpose when I am with them - as if I was always meant to be here - does that make sense?" he asked with a frown.
"More than you know," said Korn en' Naur, stepping forward. "Now what is this about Dunorel?" asked the Sindarin lieutenant. "We have heard the rumours so don't bother denying it," he added, his voice as curt as ever.
It had transpired then, realised Hwindo. Rumour had spread and Dunorel's gruelling training had become common knowledge. He wanted to sigh and run a hand through his hair, but his joy was too great to allow the negative thoughts to prevail and so he allowed his mind to stray where it would and he smiled, wide and genuine - the clouds that had shrouded him since his return lifting a little, his soul no longer so grey, so oppressed.
"It is well, Koron. He did what he had to, what was expected of him," he said firmly, albeit Koron en' Naur's eyebrow was alarmingly close to his hairline.
"Is the evening for us then, brother?" asked Elladan as he stepped forward with an ironic smirk.
"Almost," replied Legolas somewhat apologetically. "I must visit the king. After that, there is no other place I would rather be - we have much to discuss," he added, sobering somewhat at the import of what he would say to the king, indeed The Company fell into silence once more.
"Then go to your father, and then you rest some more, that is an order…" said Elladan.
Legolas' eyebrow rose and he stepped menacingly towards Rafnohtar until his face was a little too close to the Noldo's. "Captains - do not take orders from lieutenants.."
Elladan scowled as he stared into the bright green eyes that shone in fake irritation, for just behind them was mischief - and joy - great joy.
"Dunorel…" murmured Elladan.
"… has made me Captain, Rafno."
Yet before he or any of the others could react, Legolas had disappeared behind the Wall of Stone and the Wise Warrior, trapped in an embrace so fierce, so heartfelt it brought a tear to their eyes as they watched for they all knew the story, the tale of these three from Llan Galadh who had grown together in the deep forest, under the ever-present shadow of a dream - Hwindo's dream.
Soon though, they were all laughing and shouting and from afar, and Dunorel, Thoron and Celegon watched from a first floor window of the barracks, the Commander General's shrewd grey eyes sparkling keenly.
"We must watch him closely. The Norhad Clan and Barathon will not be pleased, and Bandorion's son does not fool me at all. He is not contrite, he is not forgiving as he would have us believe," he explained as he turned to his colleagues, his face set in stone. "He is waiting…"
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Scowling minutely and then schooling his features, he knocked, and then heard his father's voice bidding him enter. The guards opened the double doors and Legolas stepped inside.
The king stood in the shadows, visible only by the light he emitted, and the glint of his eyes and jewels. He emerged as Legolas approached him, and then stood silently before him, the deep blue eyes stripping away his protective barriers, seeing through his cold, unconcerned exterior to the cauldron of tumultuous feelings beneath.
It never ceased to amaze Legolas how much his father could impress him. Every time he saw him, he would be struck by his imposing figure, his commanding aura, his virile beauty. He could be dressed in simple leggings and a shirt, and all would hail him as king; there was no mistaking him, for he was a most singular elf, one that left none indifferent.
Thranduil stood staring at his son, his eyes moving from one inch of his face to the next, over his hair, his ears, his eyes, until he finally faced him once more.
"You have changed, my son."
Legolas smiled blankly at this father's words, and he wondered if his joy and his turmoil were visible on his face, in spite of his own effort to conceal the conflicting emotions.
"Yes, I have changed, everything has changed in but a scant moment in time," he murmured as they both sat on a comfortable sofa before a magnificent hearth that crackled healthily upon the grate.
Thranduil handed his son a glass of wine as he sat back, still unable to wrench his eyes away from Legolas' face, for there was so much to interpret. Beneath the exhaustion and the pain there was a roiling vortex of emotion to interpret, and the king was adamant that he would not let him go until he understood.
"You have much to say to me," he prompted, and then waited patiently, sipping on his wine and watching for a reaction. The boy was uncomfortable and that did not surprise the king, for in one thing, Thranduil was very good - he read elven emotions so very well, even the ones that were being held prisoner now behind his son's eyes.
"I have much to say, that is true - I do not know where to start…"
"Legolas. We have not known each other for long - we do not quite know how to - be - with each other. So start, perhaps, by telling me what Dunorel said to you - you have been with the Inner Circle for the better part of the afternoon…"
"Yes. He - he told me he was content with my service and that the Inner Circle agreed …" he hesitated.
Thranduil startled and then straightened his posture. He had been about to drink from his glass but he lowered it as he braced himself for what his son would say.
"I am - I am Captain!" he said, as if he could not believe it, as if the notion confounded him for his tone was indeed, one of utter confusion.
The words penetrated Thranduil's skin and rushed around his body, setting it alight and he stood, placing his cup on the table somewhat harshly and then turning to his son.
"Stand," he commanded, and Legolas stood as one dazed, only to be grabbed and fiercely hugged to his father's chest, the strong arms tightening around his back and of a sudden, the numbness was gone and he allowed himself to believe it - believe that his dream was no longer, for it had become reality and he was complete. All it had taken was to say it, aloud, to his father.
"How proud can a father be?" whispered Thranduil. "How much I admire you cannot be put into words. Seven hundred and forty-eight years old, and a captain, a commander! Oh my Silvan son…"
Legolas smiled into his father's chest albeit he felt awkward, before Thranduil held him at arm's length, unwilling to draw out his son's discomfort.
"Now sit, and tell me all!"
With a steadying breath, he did. He told his father of the ensuing debate with the Inner Circle, their consent to his plans with the sole condition of the approval of the King and as Legolas talked, the king listened, and the Sun finally sank below the horizon and darkness was upon them.
He had called for the evening meal to be served where they talked, and had sent a message to his family that he was not to be disturbed. This moment must not be broken, he realised, not only because the information they were sharing was paramount to the kingdom, but because it was the first moment alone with his son, it was an opportunity to shorten the gap between them, to know the boy a little better and for himself to show just a little of the elf behind the stony facade of a king.
A small round table had been exquisitely set upon the king's balcony that looked out over the Evergreen Wood, where Thranduil and Legolas now sat amidst the orange haze of candle light and the blue tinge of a full moon. Sumptuous dishes of meats, vegetables and cheeses had been brought, and Legolas could not help but give in to his still, food-starved body.
"So," began the king, as he watched indulgently, "you will create this specialised patrol - The Company - eleven strong, and you will put them through a training programme of your own making. You wish to customise your uniforms and introduce new protocols. You wish to test run Elladan's project of warrior-healers and then bring the whole thing together, within the space of one year - is that essentially the case?"
"Yes - although that is just the preparation stage. After that, our mission will be to ride the forests, and heed the call of the Captains should we be needed. We will be an itinerant patrol if you will. Our priority is the defence of the forest for that is what Yavanna requires of me, and as such I must have the authority to decide our destinations. This fits well with what the Silvan people have charged me with and what I ask is that I be given the one year preparation period I need, and then the command I need to take The Company where I will…"
The piercing green eyes were on the king, open and direct, willing him to see the logic of his words and Thranduil did, but there were conditions to his acceptance.
"As to the year you need, it is granted with one condition."
Legolas looked back at his father in mounting hope and concern.
"You are Master Archer, Master of Short Swords and Close Combat. You are missing your Sword Master and - the Spears…" if you are to have the authority to decide your own movements, I would have you Grand Master - master of the five weapons."
Legolas' young eyes clearly showed his surprise at the king's words. He had not had the time to tell him of his progress, of his success in his combat masters yet his father had known and an as-yet unknown sensation came to him - he was being monitored, followed from a distance.
Chancing a quick glance at Thranduil, their eyes met, and the sadness Hwindo saw behind his father's Sindarin blue eyes told him his mind had been read to perfection. He felt inadequate again for he was not accustomed to this blood tie, these sensations and feelings that seemed to come from nowhere, that were in the blood and could not be refuted, even though the person who sat before him was almost a stranger to him.
Looking away for a moment, he turned back and this time the feelings were controlled.
"Father, there are no spear masters in the Greenwood…" he began, but his expression changed as he suddenly realised what it was Thranduil was saying.
"You would have me travel to Imladris?"
"Yes," smiled the king. Have Glorfindel lead you to mastery with the sword, and their Noldorin spear master show you how to wield the Spear of Doriath - your grandfather's weapon."
"It could be done…" murmured Legolas as his eyes slipped to the side. "It would not interrupt the training process nor any other part of the project, and it would be convenient to have Glorfindel's help."
"It is a good idea, Legolas," said Thranduil. "You have been in the South for so long - to carry out your plans you need peace of mind, rest and recuperation for I am not blind - Dunorel has pushed you almost to your limits, and his I wager - tell me I am wrong…" he said with the sparkle of a challenge in his eyes.
After a moment of hesitation, Legolas answered him. "You are not wrong. My only consolation is that he is just the worse for wear as I am," he smiled. "So long as it is one year and no longer - the forest must be tended, and the Silvan people appeased," he added. "I will need funds, father - I have worked out a sum I will submit to you tomorrow morning."
"I will look at it and discuss it all with Aradan. Speaking of which, have you seen Llyniel? he asked lightly.
"Only briefly," he sighed. "Our relationship was over even before it began I think…"
"You still like her though?"
"Oh aye- but I cannot pay her the attention I must in order for our relationship to move forward. It would be unfair to broach the subject once more, and then leave her again, for who knows how long."
"Do not push it, Legolas. Do not close any doors," said Thranduil with a smile as he stood and gestured for his son to join him in the lounge. He was enjoying this, his first moment of bonding with his Silvan son, for Lassiel was inside him, he reminded himself; a part of her was standing before him now and the king was inexorably drawn to it, fascinated by it.
Some time later, the king's regal crown lay opulently upon the table, his silver hair falling about his face, lying over the velvet of his cloak which now hung loosely around him. He smiled and Legolas returned it, wondering if his father was thinking the same as he was. There was still so much to learn about each other, but this night had been their first opportunity to converse, not under duress but in comfort and peace and although he still felt awkward and clumsy, he was beginning to enjoy the attention that came with having a father, albeit as yet, he felt utterly incapable of returning it, yet when his eyes met those of his father, the spark of mischief had returned.
"What is it?" asked the king as he placed one booted foot upon the table, and then the other, crossing his feet at the ankles.
"I was just thinking…. captain… said Legolas in awe and then smiled even wider. "You have no idea, father, no idea what this means to me, how much I have worked for this moment."
"I think I do. I have watched you closely this past year and I hold myself as an excellent judge of character. I have seen your determination, your hunger for knowledge, Glorfindel's report, the Inner Circle - I have an idea, son. Your body too, speaks of your sacrifice - you will be a great commander - you will move them, I think, just as my own father did."
Before long, Legolas was beaming. "I have - so many plans, so many things I would change," he said as a hand reached up and began to pull out his braids. "Even the elements of our standard issue uniforms. They are Sindarin, through and through, and yet those that wear it are mostly Silvan. I want distinctives, regiments, specialists if you will. Archers, swordsman, foot soldiers, mounted guard - we already have the Home Guard, but everyone else is denominated a 'warrior'. If we give them identity, speciality, it can only be beneficial, both on a practical and personal level," he said, pulling at the last of his braids until his hair fell heavily around him and Thranduil's eyes roved appreciatively over it.
"Once you have created your Company, we will discuss those things - one year Legolas, after which I want you here, whole and hale, ready to carry out your duty to Yavanna, and to me," he said as he poured more wine and pushed the bottle over to Legolas.
"Did you know you have other colours in your eyes?" asked the king in fascination.
Legolas met his father's gaze for a moment before answering. "Glorfindel told me once, in Imladris," he said, somewhat sleepily.
It was late, yet more than this his four year tour in the South had left him unwell.
"Father,"
"Hum…"
"I should leave. Elladan will have my guts for bowstrings if he knew I was still awake and drinking wine. I will see you tomorrow with the breakdown I have prepared. Will you excuse me?"
"I have no desire to witness the wrath of of an angry Noldorin healer, Legolas. Go and sleep," said the king, hopeful that his disappointment did not show. "Perhaps tomorrow you will see your brothers and sister…"
Legolas smiled and then nodded. "Of course," he said with a nod, and then left, bound for his own rooms and blissful oblivion. He had not met with The Company, and so, he promised to himself that the first thing he would do tomorrow would be to seek them out. He finally had the blessings of the Inner Circle and the King to set his plans into motion, all that was left now, was to tell his warrior brothers that their time to shine had come.
He smiled, and then he remembered that he still had not seen Handir, Maeneth, Rinion, and neither had he spoken with Llyniel. A pang of guilt took him completely by surprise and he scowled as he turned on his side and pulled the blankets higher over his shoulders.
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The child stood grinning before him. One front tooth was crooked, the result of a stray fist during their last great battle. The grin became wider and the strange green eyes lit up in joy and enthusiasm.
Legolas opened his eyes, only to find himself grinning at something he could not quite pinpoint. A good dream, he realised, whatever it had been
He could feel brilliant sunlight upon his face even though it was winter, and he revelled for a moment, in the warmth of his bed.
Opening his eyes, a sense of peace and wellbeing clicked into place and he smiled. He felt rested and his body did not pain him as much as it had. And then Dunorel's face was before his mind's eyes and he remembered - he was Captain!
Sitting up, suddenly alive with the thrill of what this day would bring, he looked out of his open window and realised it was already late morning. He had slept through breakfast and well on the way to lunch, and so, dressing in his lieutenant's uniform, perhaps for the last time, he plaited his hair and bunched the Avarin braids deftly upon his head, and then left for the barracks, nodding and smiling to all who passed him by.
The face of a child floated before his mind's eye, his own face, round and soft yet set in a fierce snarl - a warrior's snarl. 'You will not pass me! I will kill you with my sword!" he shouted, back straightening, head tilting back in challenge, the heavy, gnarled branch held in a ready stance before him. His auburn-haired enemy smirked back at him, sparkling blue eyes answering the challenge, in his own hand a thinner branch - almost a twig came to meet the fierce blond warrior's legendary wooden weapon.
His eyes welled quite unexpectedly and he startled, desperately schooling his mind's strange wanderings.
The barracks were alive this morning, for a new batch of novice warriors were being put through their basic training and a nostalgic smile graced his face as his eyes floated over them, wondering now if he would one day command these boys. 'Boys', he snorted to himself. Most of them were older than he was!
'that was no nuthatch, Legolas, that was an elven warrior…'
He had been exactly where they were now, not so many years ago - so young, so green, so utterly oblivious to life, to his own history and origins. A crushing sense of pity slammed into him and his eyes welled once more.
Some of recruits must have faltered for soon the instructors were screaming at them to apply themselves, their harsh words echoing around the trees beyond and bringing a fond smile to Hwindo's face.
"Captain," came the deep voice of Thoron, and Hwindo visibly jumped. Thoron frowned for a moment before saluting Greenwood's youngest captain, equal to equal.
"Come - you have an appointment with the seamstress!" said a jolly Thoron and Legolas looked at him questioningly.
"It seems we are both in high spirits this day," smiled Legolas.
"Well I cannot say you look joyous Legolas - there is something about you I cannot pinpoint."
Legolas shook his head. "My mind is playing games with me, Thoron. I keep seeing myself as a young lad, playing warriors with Idhren and Ram en' - it is as if - as if I am losing him…"
Thoron turned and looked closely at his young friend. "You are not losing him, Legolas. 'Tis simply that that child had a dream, and the dream has come to fruition — 'tis what your mind is telling your stubborn heart to believe, boy. We realised yesterday, saw your confusion, knew that you had yet to react."
Legolas listened to the older, veteran warrior and then he smiled. He was right, and of a sudden he understood. His mind was telling him to rejoice - to not forget what this had meant to him all of his life - to enjoy the moment - to move forward and not drown in his own sense of responsibility, lose his sense of pride under the sheer weight of all that still needed to be done.
The smile became so wide he could no longer contain his teeth, and then he laughed and slapped Thoron upon the shoulder.
"Yes - yes! Valar Thoron I am a case to study - I should shout it from the treetops! Drink Dorwinion, dance around the fire pits, I should…."
"Hold it, hold it!" he smiled. "Get your uniform first, Captain, brief your men, and I will sit and wait for the gossip. Elbereth, do not ask me why, Legolas for I cannot say what it is - it is almost as if Spring were here and I a Silvan!"
Legolas guffawed at the notion of the mighty Sindarin warrior skipping amidst the spring trees and his smile widened as it waxed mischievous.
Entering the stone building where the Greenwood's military made its home, they strode into a room where two elves stood deep in debate as they rummaged through the small pieces of cloth that lay strewn upon a table.
"Well, I will leave you," said Thoron. "By the time you leave these barracks you will be wearing the uniform of a commander," he smiled and Legolas smiled back, wide and ecstatic.
Indeed it was just as Thoron had said, and Legolas walked back to the fortress under the weak, afternoon sun, its timid rays catching the exquisitely wrought metal of his chest plate and pauldrons.
He felt lordly, and yet strangely ill-equipped to fight. The armour was light and yet it hindered his movements somewhat; he could not imagine performing close combat like this, at least not if he was to use his own moves. The fabric would snag, the thin metal chafe over his skin and impede many of his more, acrobatic moves.
Perhaps it was simply a question of adjusting to it, but to Hwindohtar, at that precise moment, it seemed more of a peace-time uniform than the protective equipment of a woodland warrior.
"Hwindo!" called Rafnohtar as he jogged over and fell into step with his friend.
"Well well," he began, his hands reaching for the ornate armour, a sly smile on his lips.
"Leave me be!" growled Legolas albeit a resigned smile had taken up residence on his face, his own hand batting away Elladan's questing fingers. He had known this would come, the good-hearted mockery his friends would subject him to. Yet his friend soon sobered and the edge of urgency in his voice was not lost on Hwindohtar.
"The Company has been called for duty, some to the East, others to the West - we must ride tomorrow…" he said, his eyes slipping sideways as he waited for Hwindo's reaction.
"No - you can ignore that, Lieutenant; that, is not your destiny…"
"Ignore it? are you mad?"
Legolas abruptly stopped and turned to Elladan who turned to face him, a deep scowl on his face.
"Muster them, tomorrow, at first light at the barracks. You will all report for duty yes, but not to the East or West - you will report to me…" he said, his green eyes gleaming with the challenge, observing as understanding slowly transformed his friend's face.
"It is official? You have succeeded in creating your own patrol?" asked Rafnohtar, his face alight, eyes heavy, breathing a little too fast.
Legolas watched him, and then slowly smiled until his teeth showed and he spoke once more.
"Report for duty at first light, Lieutenant."
Elladan searched his eyes for his friend had not answered him, but had left the question floating in the air; there was no confusing that look upon his face though, and when they went their own ways for the rest of the day, Elladan's heart began to soar.
Above them, dull, blue eyes observed them from behind a pane of glass. 'Captain…' he spat to himself. 'You do not deserve that honour,
'Murderer, kin-slayer…'
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Light-hearted chuckling floated around the small dining area, where six elves sat eating and drinking. One was a king, another was lieutenant and prince and the third was a captain, a warlord albeit this evening he dressed as a civilian. Beside him, sat a Noldorin lieutenant and healer, and opposite him sat the princess, silver and blue, eyes riveted on the dark Noldo whose eyes would always gravitate to hers.
Legolas had greeted his siblings for the first time since his arrival, amidst a sense of resigned duty and genuine fondness. But the awkwardness was back, his own inability to deal with his feelings frustrating him once more.
Some time had passed and he sat now, listening to them as understanding slowly began to dawn on him. They were not including him in their conversations, made no attempt to draw him in. Perhaps he had underestimated them, he mused, and he suddenly felt like a child seeking to escape the wrath of his mother. Indeed as the evening progressed, he became more and more convinced that they understood his dilemma, his shortcomings in dealing with family life.
His eyes slipped casually to his sister, Maeneth, who sat smiling as she listened to Elladan's explanation of how to successfully dry and store kingsfoil but she surprised him when her own, light blue eyes landed knowingly upon him.
Maeneth was only slightly older than himself and yet, in the ways of the heart she was so much wiser, and he did not think it was only the fact that she had had a family, a solid base on which to thrive. There was something else, an innate quality neither of her brothers possessed. She was intuitive with other people's feelings, in the same way that Handir was intuitive with other people's reasoning.
He could not help the smile that pulled at his lips, and he rather thought his face had told his sister what she had, perhaps, been searching for. He was grateful for her wisdom for here he sat, eating and drinking, simply listening to others, as if he were being politely invited to join them, rather than duty bound to do so.
He was comfortable with this, he decided and when he returned to his meal he felt lighter, more relaxed.
"Now," began the king, and the siblings and their guest fell into obedient silence. "Tomorrow, there will be a small gathering for there are things to be discussed and announced. Please dress formally for though we will be in the presence of friends and family, I require your best effort."
Handir's eyebrows rose and Rinion's eyes narrowed. Maeneth's eyes swivelled to Legolas, and Legolas - a fleeting expression of panic crossed his face, one she saw and interpreted, before they moved to land on Elladan, who was smiling softly.
He knew, she realised. Elladan, Legolas and the king held a secret, one that would be revealed tomorrow.