TRYING TO PUSH THE PAST AWAY
BOOK ONE
DISCLAIMER: I do not own „Lord Of The Rings". Whole recognizable belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. Written only for fun, no money made.
WARNINGS: None.
Chapter 10: I CAN TAKE THIS REASON
/*/
"Who is he?" Verién asked in a whisper. Glorfindel shook out of his stupor.
"He is…" he hesitated, but quickly gathered his thoughts. He would talk with Elrond later. "Legolas… The boy came to us about two months ago from Mirkwood. Lathronios gave him to Elrond as a gift, to make up for all he has in debt… Legolas was in terrible state when he came here. He spent four weeks in the healing chamber. We have almost lost him. He started walking only recently."
"A personal slave for uncle Elrond…?" the girl's eyes widened like saucers. "A pleasure slave?... By the Valar!..."
Glorfindel sighed heavily and raised a brow. They suspected few things, but those were never actually confirmed.
"We heard a few things, but he never confirmed anything. I tried to ask, but he is not ready to speak about his past at all. We know nothing, Verién." the Lord said, shrugging helplessly. "From where comes your certainty?"
"I have met few slaves from Mirkwood before. I have listened to stories. I have seen marks and bruises." She whispered, lowering her eyes. "I am old enough to know that such things happen, wisdom of the Elves aside."
Glorfindel frowned. "I'm curious about these slaves you met, but since you won't tell me anything either way, I'll spare myself trouble with asking." He said. Verién sent him an unfriendly stare, showing clearly that she won't answer any questions.
"How is he coping?" she asked.
"Better," Glorfindel sighed, looking back at the blond figure, melted into Elrond's embrace trustingly, unaware of their looks and whispers. "As you see, they have developed… a thread of understanding. But he is weird. Scared of everything, ashamed, and the border of his obedience is impossibly remote. He is managing, but overally… he is far from normal." Glorfindel hesitated. "It's not like we are complaining, no, we're glad that he recovered at all… this is just worrying. He is actually a grown male, but he is like ten-year old inside."
"Yeah, that's normal." Verién sighed and shifted her weight from one leg to another, deep in thought. "Does he have any friends here?"
Glorfindel started. "Eerm… Elrond?" he tried, pointing the couple on the balcony. Verién shook her head.
"Someone from his own class."
"Class?"
"His own level. From the household, maybe?"
"Well, there is Neremiel… Why cannot Elrond be his friend? He is like…"
"…a father, a protector, a kind Master. Never a friend in the basic, carefree meaning of this word. This just won't be, simply. Pity, he could use someone to be his friend…" she murmured. "Maybe he would open sooner."
"He never spends much time with people, he keeps to his room when he is not working." Glorfindel said slowly, thinking over the possibilities. "Although he likes Belithravien, and he spoke with Gwaithtir a few times… but I wouldn't consider them friends, Legolas is afraid of him."
"That actually supports the thesis that he had been raped. He may consider men as a threat, you know."
Glorfindel froze for a moment. It made little sense, but these were only suspicions.
"He never said anything. And, my dear wanderer, I doubt he ever will. All you have are assumptions. And I would advise you not to investigate Elrond or Legolas himself like you have investigated me, for you may actually do more harm than you can imagine. Legolas is in a very fragile state of mind." He sent her a strict gaze. "Elrond is the best of healers. If he couldn't help, no one will. This is the most we could expect from him. Even if he stays like a child to the end, we have no right to push him harder. Are we clear? Don't mess things up."
Verién kept silent for a longer while.
"Ever a tutor." She finally said with some difficulty. "I will keep that in mind, Glorfindel."
"Don't take this to yourself, I just… warn you. You may accidentally cause a breakdown you will not be able to handle. We have seen things also." Glorfindel said, in much more delicate tone.
"I have learnt how to act around the abused, I won't be of any trouble to you." She ascertained.
"Not that I mean to discourage you, but I think you would be exhausted after a day with him." Glorfindel murmured.
"Give me an example."
"Here you are. He will not go first into the room, even if I invited him with a gesture. He will only stay bowed and wait. As if afraid of the blow. It's alright once, twice, but after hours of explaining, he should finally get it. Or at least comply to make us stop admonish him. He does neither."
Verién brushed some of her hair away from her forehead.
"Glorfindel, try to think like he does for a moment. It is you who is acting weird," she sighed, settling for explaining. "Look, of course he won't go first through the door. In his well taught etiquette, taught by an order, a blow and a kick, it is a grievous disrespect. He doesn't want to disrespect you. But then – it is you who does something against etiquette. You are unpredictable. Maybe you want him to go first. In such case staying is bad. But then, even if he complies – he would be turning his back to you and leaving it unprotected. That's an easy chance for a blow from behind…"
"I wouldn't hit him!"
"Quieter. Glorfindel, he. doesn't. accept. that." She frowned. "In his world it is the only way of communication. That's how the high level speaks to the lowest level of society. What you do to him is communicate like a fellow would and so he is confused. You had put no border he can abide. He has no order he can obey. And to obey is all he can do. Without it he's lost."
Glorfindel was silent for a while, but slowly shook his head.
"We cannot continue with the iron discipline he had been taught and he understands. We cannot even yell at him, for he is too defenseless." He hissed back. "He just needs time to get use to the new way, learn the new language of civilized people, just like one learns a foreign tongue."
"Maybe. But waiting is not everything you can do. Think like he does; if you want to help him, you have to predict his inner battles, consider all possible ways of upcoming danger as if it was you who doesn't know how to act. As his protectors, your duty is to understand his way of thinking and to accept it."
"Accept?" he said slowly. "We are accepting him."
Verién bit down her lower lip, searching for comparison.
"I understand you have always been telling him that his way of thinking is wrong, true?" she asked.
"Of course. Every time. And we were explaining." Glorfindel said immediately.
Verién sent him an albeit sad look. "Dear, wise men. You love your honor and righteousness to the point you never thought of simple sympathy." She smiled at Glorfindel's strange expression; he didn't know whether to take it as a praise or a scold.
"See, by doing that, you have only taught him what he is feeling, thinking and doing is not normal. You decided to rip the habit out of him along with the roots. But that way he had met with rejection from your side. You don't accept him as a person he is now."
Glorfindel's eyebrows went skywards.
"And so, this is just the same as it was." Verién said after a while. "The only difference is, the cage turned from steel to golden. Instead of being punished for his mistakes, he is only pampered more to show him this new world is good, while he doesn't think so; and a huge guilt is being born. Do I have to tell you it is a dead end?"
Glorfindel observed her for a while. When he spoke, he hesitated, but being true to his habit of asking direct, sharp questions, he asked either way.
"Aren't you confusing his feelings with your own?"
She didn't look down.
"I'm quite sure I'm not."
"Good." He nodded. "For I would rather be sure than only assume that something is amiss in our behavior and suddenly turn his world upside down basing on an unconfirmed suspicion."
"No one speaks about turning his world upside down," Verién said. "It was just a useful prompt. A broader outlook from someone outside."
Glorfindel nodded in appreciation. The girl spared Legolas a longer stare, assessing his curled figure and slender hands clutching Elrond's robe desperately.
"Two months, say you…? That's quite alright… He needed much time to recover physically, I suspect." She sighed. "And uncle seems to be quite fond of him, doesn't he?" she added in much happier tone.
"Yes, he is. Legolas couldn't find a better protector." Glorfindel said somewhat gloomily.
"Protector, yes… but he needs a friend," Verién said. "Not someone above him, like you are. Someone from outside. Someone he could trust. Someone who understands and listens. And a girl, definitely."
"Why is that?" Glorfindel asked, but suddenly understood and quickly looked away. "None of us would hurt him that way again…"
"But you think like you!" she shrugged. "You need to think like him. For him, you are all potential threats, kind to him or not. Accept his way of thinking. It is not wrong. What they did to him is wrong, but the result, he, his psyche, his comprehension is not bad."
"But we want him to become better than that."
Verién nodded.
"Of course. But what if he is just… blocked by all this expectations? He won't make any progress knowing he has to. This is completely new and scary, so his mind is protecting itself with stubborn obedience." She explained.
"You want to say that this has to be his own choice to come out of this stupor, not any order. It's a truth he has to find himself." Glorfindel finished. "Yes, that makes sense."
They were both silent for a moment, watching the two on the balcony. Now, in silence, they could hear a steady and monotony voice of Elrond, reading from the book he was holding.
"Elrond is afraid… that Legolas is fading."
"Nah… Nothing as easy as that." the girl said slowly. "He isn't glowing, is he?" at Glorfindel's nod she continued. "So you see. Only Elves can fade from grief. And Legolas, being treated more like an animal through all these years, lost some of the typically Elvish features… some are unable to fade. It's even worse, for they have to live in that state of continuing pain. On the other hand, some fade so quickly that it's difficult to say, was it fading or was it just because of the wounds and exhaustion…? He is alive, and I see that he had at least attempted to adapt. At this point… he will not fade."
Glorfindel didn't know what to say at this revelation.
"Elrond will be glad at least of this… he is attached to him."
"Yeah, they look like lovers." Verién whispered with a smile.
"By the Valar, don't tell your uncle such a thing…"
"But of course. It's your job." The girl said, completely serious.
Oh yes, I will have to speak with Elrond, but this, my little wisdom well, is none of your concern anymore, Glorfindel thought and frowned, patting the stone threshold with the tip of his leather shoe. Oh, Elrond will get mad again, he predicted bitterly.
"It's just… uncle better wait with any show of affection… Legolas would ran away in fright." She whispered hesitantly.
"Verién, leave this to me." Glorfindel stopped her decidedly.
"Of course. You will know what to do." She nodded and glanced at the couple on the balcony again only to discover they were being watched.
/*/
"What do you think you are doing over there, you pair of eavesdroppers?" Elrond called, steadying Legolas with one hand. The boy sat upright, obviously scared and ashamed, instinctively gathering Elrond's cloak tighter around himself like a blanket.
"We just came by to say good morrow," Verién smiled. Elrond chuckled and put the book away.
"Finally awake, huh? That was an eventful night. Did you catch some sleep at all?"
"A little," Verién smiled. "It wasn't perfectly comfortable, maybe…"
"What did you say?" Glorfindel smirked teasingly.
"No, nothing, my hero."
The Balrog Slayer shot her a don't-call-me-that-near-Elrond-look, causing the Lord of the valley to openly snort with laughter. He turned to his beautiful charge sitting nearby and delicately rubbed his back in a soothing gesture.
"Meet Verién, Legolas. She is my niece, the prankster daughter of my sister, Elevran. You saw her already on the painting you asked me about."
Verién came closer and squatted in front of Legolas, extending a hand in greeting.
"Nice to meet you, Legolas. You are a newcomer, aren't you? From Mirkwood?"
Both Lords hissed at such bold and direct question. Legolas stiffened and didn't take the offered hand, even if Verién held it stubbornly extended. He lowered his head in a tense greeting.
"It is an honor, my Lady. Yes, I… come from Mirkwood."
"You don't have to fear me. The sparrow's nest is on the eastern wall."
Legolas rapidly rose his head to look at Verién with pure shock on his face. Both Elrond and Glorfindel gave out a startled 'what?', looking up from Verién to themselves, on Legolas and back. The girl only smiled at the blond boy. Nicely.
"Are there any eggs?" Legolas asked slowly, his shock turning into wonder.
"Yes, three. And you know what?" the girl asked in a conspiratorial whisper. "Little sparrows have already hatched and flew away."
Now Legolas frowned. Seemingly he couldn't understand. Verién laughed at that.
"Caevyan, Gliowien, and Rithalindë. Remember? They have their own nests now."
Legolas gave out a choked sigh and grasped the girl's hand in both of his palms. Elrond have never seen him that enthusiastic and that happy before. He shook the rich robe off his shoulders and laughed with shining eyes, shaking the girl's hand.
"Good news! Good news!" he was repeating. "Their own nest… good news indeed!"
"Verién, could you please…" Elrond began quietly, watching Legolas in awe. He let go of the girl's hand and brushed a few tears out of his eyes in quick, almost violent movements, smiling all the time.
"This is a kind of code Legolas had been communicating with his fellows in Mirkwood. I'm sorry, but I cannot translate its meaning, uncle," she said, very proud of herself.
"Interesting. And where have you learned that?"
"You know, travels broaden the mind," she said brazenly. Elrond raised his fine brow at that.
"How are you doing, Legolas? Do you like it in Imladris?" the girl asked.
The boy nodded in joy. "I do, very much," he said, glancing at Elrond with thankfulness clearly written on his face. "Everyone are so kind to me."
"Have you seen all of the place? Glorfindel told me that you are already two months in here."
"All the place? No, I haven't…" he said with a note of regret. "I just… well, it just didn't happen…"
"I see. You know, I could show you Imladris. It would have been a shame not to see it thoroughly. Especially if you live here now."
"I… I… may I?..." Legolas' eyes wandered to Elrond again, and saw only a kind expression and permission.
"Of course you may. You need some company more appropriate than stiff Lords and their stiff manners. And the sun will do you good." Elrond's hand extended to rest on a fair head, and the Lord noted with content that Legolas isn't moving away.
"But… Sir Erestor needs help in cleaning the kitchens and…"
"The kitchens are already cleaned, Legolas. We have been downstairs." Verién said, pointing Glorfindel. "Erestor shouldn't mind. The party had damaged his schedule a little… so that the dinner is going to be a bit late… but then, he was having fun himself yesterday. Come, we will go to him and ask whether he needs some help or not."
Surprisingly to the Lords again, Legolas just stood up without hesitation and neatly folded the embroidered robe, putting it down on a daybed. He glanced at his Master, who nodded again in permission, and with a genuine smile of joy Legolas bowed, excused himself courteously to Elrond and Glorfindel and ran after the girl.
/*/
Elrond just sat puzzled for a while on the daybed, suddenly feeling empty. It was actually very good to hold an armful of sleeping Legolas. And suddenly in a whirlwind of fuss he was kidnapped by his own niece, who should have showed more understanding to her uncle's wishes.
"She just grabbed him and they're gone," Elrond said finally. "I forgot what a hurricane this girl is."
Glorfindel didn't answer, looking at Elrond and biting his lower lip in unsettlement.
"You know, Legolas told me about… his past," Elrond began, glancing at his friend. "This was not an easy story. He couldn't calm down… so I read to him."
Still no answer. Elrond began to feel stupid.
"I see." Glorfindel said finally. "Did he calm down?"
"You saw yourself," Elrond said.
"Yeah. I saw."
That is where Elrond had enough. He straightened, as if attempting to stand up, but then abandoned the idea as it required too much of an effort. He felt empty and suddenly irritated, he wanted… no, there was actually no thing he wanted in his dispirited state. It was so perfect, why those two had to brutally interfere and put an end to their moment? It would have been much better, acceptable even, if he just gradually let him go, sent him downstairs with a kind reassurance and a smile. This would have been a very good day, with such a beginning. Why am I never alone?
"What is it you don't like, Glorfindel?" Elrond asked, badly unnerved.
"I think you mistake his feelings with ones he is incapable of."
"How… how could you say that? Glorfindel, do you know how you sound?"
Glorfindel sighed uncomfortably.
"I do know. Elrond, he is not ready. I feel so sorry for you, being forced to wait again, to hide your feelings, I know it is cruel, but he just cannot… he will turn you away at his present state… and if you do this just to, like, hurt yourself…"
"What are you speaking about?" Elrond yelled. "I was just comforting him!"
"Call it like you want," Glorfindel said quietly. "I know what I saw."
"I don't know what are you speaking about."
Elrond shook his head in outrage and turned his back to his friend. Looking down he saw a glimpse of Legolas' blond head in the courtyard and soon a pleasant chatter reached his ears. It was the Elf speaking, asking about something with barely hidden curiosity. Verién began enthusiastically explaining something.
Glorfindel left very quietly, so that when Elrond turned around again with a sharp remark on his tongue, he met only air.
/*/
"Oh?"
A young and slender Elf, busy around the fireplace, turned around suddenly.
" 'Ro, is everything alright?"
"Yeah… I just feel… stupid."
The Elf knelt next to his interlocutor, supporting his chin on his knee.
"You know, dear brother, this is actually nothing unusual."
"Oh come on," the other one said, straightening to a sitting position from where he was resting under the tree. " 'Tis such a strange thing. Don't you feel it too?"
The first one closed his eyes and concentrated. He was just about saying that no, he feels nothing, when along with the air something foul reached his nose.
"I do feel something," he sniffed. "Our food! Burning and all! Aaargh, Elrohir, move your ass and help me put out the fire!" The Elf dove into the small camp they made and reached for the spit, hissing and blowing at his hurting fingers.
"Now, come on! You have just burnt the rabbit I chased so long! How could you?" The other one of the twins complained aloud, kicking dirt into the small fire they had built earlier.
"Not my fault that you are such a poor hunter!" the other yelled back, holding the saved food in both somewhat burnt hands.
"It is you who is a very poor cook. And don't blame me, Elladan."
Elrohir heard an especially nasty, dwarvish curse from his brother and would have taught him better, if not the fact that the food was in his hands. He couldn't risk it becoming totally uneatable after a fall on the sandy ground.
They both sat cross-legged on their bedrolls, divided the rabbit in halves and even if it was a bit burnt, started eating. The rest of the riding party welcomed some silence with relief.
They were safely within Imladris' borders already, nothing dangerous would be coming their way and so all of them allowed themselves a little freedom. The twins, exited to be home finally, were especially loud and witty today; after three months of stay in Lothorien, mixed with long and exhausting orc hunts, they would settle at home for some rest before riding out for another journey.
The party was quite large. The makeshift camp they set up took all of the great clearing and a piece of the wood. More than a hundred men were accompanying the royal twins in their avenge hunts.
Elladan and Elrohir, even if respected, were not in charge. They were still too young for that. A tried and experienced captain, Glorfindel's colleague, led the party to the battle. In Lothorien they had help of a few Marchwardens also, but since they left the Golden Wood, they were all by themselves. They had a safe journey. All the wounded regained their senses under a good care of the Lady and her blessings. Spirits were high. They were coming home.
"But really, El, something worries me. Ada must be in some kind of trouble or anguish. Something is happening at home."
Elladan rose his eyes on his brother.
"I had a dream, remember? The one I told you about. Now you are having some bad thoughts. Maybe we shall really find something out of place in the palace."
"Only what?" sullen Elrohir mumbled. "The longer I think…"
"…the more stupid expression you wear. Come on, we're approaching home. It's good news. And if something's amiss, we will know soon. And maybe these are just stupid thoughts? Who knows." Elladan threw the gnawed rabbit bone gracefully into the bushes. His brother glanced at him disbelievingly, but shrugged and finished his half too.
"Anyway, it's good to be home!" he said, resuming his position under the tree. "We're not only safe here, we are carefree again! No more orcs, patrols, life threatening decisions, hiding, spying, paying attention…"
"We will eat cakes again," Elladan smirked.
"How I miss Belithravien's lemon cake…"
"…we will fool around and prank on Glorfindel…"
"…and Erestor. Good, old Erestor! I think I may have a little plan or two in mind."
"And what about proper archery grounds and the training hall? How I missed that…"
"…mhm… and we will be helping Ada in-"
Elladan and Elrohir glanced at each other in a desperate manner, looking for help, but there was none.
"…councils," Elrohir ended. "Oh damn."
Two identical, dispirited sighs escaped the two pair of lungs.
/*/
The beautiful palace hidden in a mountain valley was one, but the main body of Rivendell was situated a little lower, down the paths leading to the bottom of the stone canyon. Going further one would enter the meadows and fields, to take the only road leading there and finally encounter the forest Legolas had recognized from a blur of the unclear memories he possessed. He didn't want to remember, to start with. That road was hidden and lay in darkness. It was far away from the here and now. The dark thoughts retreated easily; what was happening in that moment was more than Legolas would have ever imagined.
The Elf had never been on a market before. It was an overwhelming place for a quiet person like him; it was full of noise, busy with life, fueled by ubiquitous Elves running through the stone-leaden, narrow streets down to the round centre and up to the tenements. Various stalls were put up, selling goods and food, many small shops or storages were open on the lowest floors of the nice, solid houses along the streets. Every window was decorated with flowers or lace curtains. It was a hot day, so most of them were open, and one could easily steal a glance inside the room lying behind. Normal households were established there, families were living in these nice flats along with many children, as if the whole world of pain and terror that Legolas came from never existed, or at least they knew nothing of it.
Rivendell was different than human towns; it was clean and spacious. The air was fresh, not humid. And the trees were green, not yellow with eaten by sickness leaves. A flock of pigeons flew up into the sky from the paved street, when the bells on the high tower not so far away started to ring at the full hour. The wind was swinging the branches of the huge trees above their heads. Imladris was indeed beautiful.
An Elven maiden put the tray with some freshly baked cookies on the window sill. Both Verién and Legolas inhaled deeply; the scent was wonderful. A bit against his own mind, which kept sending him futile warnings to hold himself more stiff and be cautious, Legolas felt himself succumb into the atmosphere.
"I am so glad to hear the news from you," he brought up, feeling strange with such an open invitation to a talk, but feeling like he could do it.
"These are not so fresh news," the girl said. "I was helping Caevyan and Gliovien about two years ago. Aranel has escaped Mirkwood last winter. From all this only story of Rithralindë is somewhat still new."
"We are very thankful," Legolas murmured. "I must thank you, my Lady, in the name of all of us."
"You are welcome. I did it with a sense of doing something good. I'm glad the news made you happy." Verién smiled nicely and kicked the dirt under her feet with a tip of her shoe, her cheeks gaining little color. "Only you need to know one thing. When you refer to me, use just my name, alright? In fact I am no Lady, you know."
"No Lady…? But, you are Master Elrond's niece…" Legolas glanced at her, uncertain.
"Well, yes… but the story is a bit complicated. I am not even wholly an Elf, to be exact."
Legolas frowned, understanding nothing of it. Verién raised an amused eyebrow at his expression.
"Nobody told you…? I could expect that it is not spoken often about me… you know, each family has to have a so-called black sheep. You could say I'm the one. I better tell you the whole story before you become thoroughly confused," she shook her head and led them both to a smiling boy who was selling raisins in honey and sugar.
She purchased one small paper bag and offered some sweets to Legolas. He gratefully took some, marveling at the taste, being absolutely sure he had never eaten something so sweet and so precious.
"Let me chatter for a while," she started, "I will make it as condensed as I can. My mother is uncle Elrond's sister, her name is Elevran."
"I know," Legolas replied. "I saw her at the painting."
"You sleep in my chamber?" Verién asked resolutely. Legolas lost his composure immediately, wanting to apologize, but she calmed him down quickly. "But it's even better, really. My old chamber never granted me a good sleep, even if the bed is said to be the best in whole Imladris." She said. Legolas nodded with a sigh, accepting that.
"My mother sailed over the Sea quite a long time ago. Uncle Elrond took it as a just another blow from the fate, but he was tough. The reason why she sailed was a man." Legolas thought that Verién's voice wavered a little. "As strict and dependable person as she was, with a hard personality difficult to break, when it came to love, she had chosen the worst possible option of all… She fell in love with a human farmer. I heard she saw him once or twice, he was from the nearby village. They fell in love and spent some wonderful time together, but then she got pregnant with me and things got complicated. They broke up. Nanneth gave birth to me. She raised me a little, so that I could take care on my own. With time it all become too much for her, so she sailed. Now she is happy… I think. I like to think of the peace she found in Grey Heavens."
Legolas noted the natural smile which accompanied the girl during telling the story. He wondered whether it was a good fake or just her character, but unable to decide, he kept silent.
"So you see… my parents weren't married, so as much as the word is ugly, it is truthful – I am a bastard. In addition, one that has only one quarter of Elven blood in her veins. My mother was a Half-Elf, my father was mortal… I really don't know if another original like me walks this Arda." She ended, taking a handful of raisins from the paper bag Legolas carried.
"I understand," Legolas said. He hesitated, not exactly knowing if he should say that he's sorry. She could get offended.
She must have noticed his glare. "Don't be sorry, it's alright. I like my life more that way. I am a free spirit."
"You don't live here, do you…?" Legolas asked tentatively. "You have just came back, but do you…"
"You ask whether I have a home, huh?" The girl glared at him with an unreadable expression.
"Yes." Legolas hung his head down, expecting a sharp response like 'none of your business'.
"This is one of my homes. I know you wonder how it is possible that a girl from such a noble family could roam the wilderness. But that's the way for me… I have friends out there. I visit here often… but just stay in the Big World, learning things by myself."
"That's how you met my kin from Mirkwood?"
"Yes."
"Why did you help them?" Legolas asked suddenly, stopping.
Verién stopped too. She saw uncertainty in the Elf's eyes, and instantly she knew how much actually depends on her answer. Obviously he was troubled, not sure of he can trust her or not.
"I helped them, because I don't like what had been done to them." She said seriously. "I can recognize wrongness when I see it. I don't like it, so I change it."
"And there is nothing more to that?" Legolas asked slowly.
The girl smirked, but somehow sadly.
"In truth, there is not much more to my whole life. I do what I like, when I like, how I like and because I like. And it works the other way round too: I don't do what I don't like, just because I don't like it. For it's wrong, or because I feel it's not entirely as it should be. Can you take such a reason?" She asked, extending a hand.
"I can," he said surprisingly easily and took the offered palm. "It sounds more probable than what Lord Glorfindel says."
"And what does my hero say?" Verién asked, snorting with laughter.
"They all help me because it should be done, that's the way they show solidarity, this is good, this is like it will be from now on…" Legolas muttered.
"Sounds stiff." The girl judged.
"Yeah. And unreal, doesn't it?"
"Hehe… given Glorfindel, not so unreal, but you don't know him that well yet…" she chuckled. "You know, I thought you really might be lonely, having no one to talk to. You haven't been making friends, huh?"
"I… haven't had much time. I… actually, I have only recently left the healing room. Master Elrond had taken care of me." Legolas fixed his eyes on his shoes.
"I see." She said only, lifting and eyebrow in a manner that indicated some plans being made inside her head. "You were kinda beaten, I heard."
"Mhm."
She waited for something more, but nothing came forth. Searching for his eyes, Verién met a hurt, apologizing look.
"It's alright." She patted his hand he didn't let go of. "It's more than alright, not to want to talk about this."
He nodded in relief.
The lively market streets were a never-ending sea of colors, scents and pictures. It passed near them, rested for a while, allowed to be noticed, and was gone in an instant, replaced by another picture or another feeling. Only now Legolas realized how long a time he spent confined to one chamber and one bed; how long he had been inside of a building, contained by walls. It had been a considerable amount of restriction. Far too great for both his body and his soul. When later Verién showed him a convenient tree they could climb on and sit, he hugged the rough wood and pressed his heated cheek to the bark. The inner turmoil of so many feelings was becoming unbearable and he desperately wished for sleep, so that he could wake up with a lot fresher mind, without the pain in his breast, clenching his heart and gripping his throat; but then something happened.
The tree started whispering.
/*/
"Ada…?"
One of the twins silently sneaked inside their father's study to take a look around. No one answered his call, so he crossed the room and finally found his father in the library, busy with several volumes, as always searching through the text in a hurry with slightly nervous hands.
"Ada."
Elrond turned around quickly and his eyes rested on his son, so changed, even if still the same. A broad, truly happy smile made Elrond's strict face a lot more pleasant and so the twin ran across the chamber to fall in a short, but affectionate hug.
" 'Ro, come, Ada is here!" he called to his brother and in an instant an identical figure appeared in the doorway. Elrond extended his second hand to reach for his other son and held him close briefly.
"I missed you, my children," the Lord finally sounded. "It was so empty and bad without you here."
"Ada, what's wrong? Such an open display of emotions?" Elladan joked good-naturedly. "You speak as if we have been away for years."
"It felt like years," Elrond admitted. "How was your journey? All safe? No wounded?"
"None. Those who were had regained health in Lothorien. We have destroyed five big orc groups and a few smaller. Nothing appears abnormal… only these beasts are easier to find and in slightly greater number… But then, it is for the better we hunted them down."
"No deaths among the soldiers? How many returned?"
The twins smiled brightly.
"Not this time, Ada. All are safe. Although Faraedhel is still weak, he survived a powerful stab from behind from one especially nasty… I mean…"
"Watch your tongue, Elrohir," Elrond's eyes for a minute became much displeased.
"Sorry, Ada," the twin apologized, looking at the floor. Soon he and his brother were once again crushed in a hug.
"You will have to tell me everything," Elrond said. "I missed you very much and now I want nothing more than to have you close. My sons… Maybe you will ease my old and tired mind."
The tree stayed like this for a while. Both Elladan and Elrohir instinctively felt that their parent needs that, a calming reassurance the family touch provided, and a safe knowledge that they were at home. Questions could wait. Stories and tales could wait. All enthusiasm could also be stopped for a while – for this one moment, just to help their father, who was bearing a dark aura of troublesome, unpleasant thoughts around himself. The twins knew he worries about something very much. They could sense uncertainty about the future. They clearly noted irritation and bad shadows of resignation and regret. Was there a hint of guilt also…?
They had not the time to detect anything further before the cloud evaporated, but from what they felt in that instant, they could confirm their suspicions from earlier. Elrohir shot his brother a glance.
Their Ada was sad again.