CHAPTER ELEVEN
Balancing his bow across his lap, Legolas shifted slightly to find a more comfortable position on the tree branch he had claimed for guard duty this night, while Elladan and Elrohir slept peacefully on the ground beneath him. He had been amazed when the twins agreed that he should take watch by himself through the night.
"You trust a warrior of Mirkwood to guard your sleep?" Legolas had asked.
"Father trusts you," Elrohir pointed out succinctly before stalking off to set the snare that would trap their rabbity supper.
Elladan grinned at him. "Not to mention you've the skills to kill both of us while we're awake, so what is the difference? Which reminds me... Are you up to more sparring after we eat?"
"Of course."
Legolas had obliged them fully by being both predator and prey in the combat games they'd engaged in over the last two days. Invigorated rather than wearied by their strenuous efforts to best each other, Legolas felt confident all three of them could find additional skills with which to torment one another for the next two days.
A companionable full moon rose slowly through the fir trees lining the banks of the stream meandering nearby, and the Elf dared relax his vigil just a little to watch the deer that had come to drink. He had seen more wildlife over the past 48 hours with Elrond's sons than he had for the past six months during his patrols of Mirkwood's forests.
[There are no giant spiders here to eat the fawns,] Legolas realized, [and there are far less wolves or Orcs than I imagined to threaten the bear and elk and great cats. No Shadows reach from Dol Guldur to chase out the smaller prey, and so it lives in relative safety--for now, at least. I must remember to compliment Elrond on the peace he has forged with such care.] Legolas smiled to add yet another item to the already-long, mental list he was compiling for the Elf-lord. [How is it that I constantly find myself thinking of him?] came the perplexing thought.
Perhaps it was because when he closed his eyes and focused, he could still hear Elrond's voice during their last conversation in the Great Hall, and feel the Elf-lord's fingers in his hair. Legolas had gone to sleep after leaving Elrond, only to be awakened a few hours later by someone caressing his hair yet again. Lying on his stomach, his first fear was that Erestor had dared invade his bedchamber, but further reflection made Legolas realize that he recognized the large hand, and its touch, as Elrond's.
[What is he doing?] Legolas wondered, ordering his body to relax and settling deeper into the pillows. [More to the point, why is he doing it when he just did it in the Great Hall? What is his seeming unending fascination with my hair?] Legolas supposed he could have rolled over and asked, but that would mean Elrond would have stopped touching him. That, Legolas was surprised to discover, he had not wanted.
Two more days of freedom stretched out before him, and Legolas was determined not to waste a moment of them. He refused to sleep, not wanting to waste any part of the gift of freedom Elrond had given him for fear Thranduil would snatch it away in only a few weeks' time.
[I can sleep when we return to Imladris,] he reminded himself. Out here, he could walk among the trees, notch arrows and let them fly for the protection of those left behind in Elrond's gentle community, and follow the twins who moved swiftly, silently and watchfully to cover vast distances while patroling their home. [Would that Thranduil could be satisfied with Elrond's efforts, so that Imladris could be my home as well,] Legolas thought wistfully.
The three Elves had discovered much to teach one another, and Legolas welcomed the lessons. It was a novel thing for him to run with strangers rather than the Mirkwood guard whom he'd known all of his life, or the Rangers whom he'd known all of their lives, to learn Elrond's guardians' ways and test his mettle against them.
Leaving Imladris before the sun had crept over the canyon walls, Legolas and the twins had journeyed upward through winter-weak light to challenge the snow still blanketing the forest. Leaving the well-traveled paths early, they rode companionably along until Elladan had inadvertantly called Legolas by his given name rather than Lasgalen to reveal his true identity.
"Legolas?" Elrohir had pounced, almost hissing. "So you're not an advance scout after all, but the Prince of Mirkwood come to... to...." Legolas caught the shiver Elrohir gave, as if to think the thought was repugnant enough; to voice it might make him throw up his toenails.
[I've felt the same way, my friend,] Legolas thought wryly. Aloud, he settled for murmuring, "I'm supposed to bond with your father, yes. We are, however, still in negotiations where that is concerned."
"What does that mean?" Elrohir demanded. "Aren't you and Thranduil happy with the ongoing dowry Mirkwood's getting for your deflowering?"
"Elrohir--" Elladan beagn.
"No," Legolas interrupted. "It's all right, I understand how the two of you must feel."
Elladan guilded his mount closer to Elrohir to lay a soothing hand on his arm. "Such matters are between Legolas and Father. We have no part in them."
Elrohir shook off the hand and glowered. "Be that as it may, I seek an explanation as to why you are out here in the cold with us, rather than warming the Lord of Imladris's bed as dictated by the treaty we've glimpsed?"
"I knew nothing of the agreement forged between Lord Elrond and Thranduil until your father showed its beginnings to me two nights ago." [Has it really been that long? It seems but a handful of hours,] thought Legolas. "The king forced me into this agreement, and while such forcing does not--"
"Forced, how?"
Legolas hesitated for a moment, not wanting to reveal what his father had done. [They will certainly hear it from Elrond eventually, if not from me,] he realized. [I'd rather they heard it from me.]
"Thranduil held me prisoner for six weeks in a black cell beneath his keep." Legolas was careful to keep his voice even, and to follow the line of discussion dictated by Elrohir. "Forgive my weakness, lords, but the light and the warmth offered by a winter bond with the Lord of Imladris appealed to me more than did remaining in the cell and letting the rats feed while I was still alive enough to feel their bite."
Elladan looked horrified while Elrohir scowled. "And so you come to Imladris unwilling."
"Not unwilling." Legolas kept his eyes on the unsullied snow before him as he rode. "I fully intend to honor the commitment and the alliance. It is your father who has insisted upon altering the details of the agreement."
"Altering, how?"
"I don't feel that I'm at liberty to--"
"He asks that Legolas love him as our mother did not," Elladan inserted softly. "At the very least, he wishes that Legolas should have some affection for him, if not desire to be with him."
"He expects this..." Elrohir said slowly, "from one who is not only a stranger, but a prince of Mirkwood? We both know that, thanks to Thranduil's prejudices, Father's reputation in Mirkwood is... unspeakable."
"Your father has already shown me how invalid such prejudices are," Legolas assured. "He has shown me far more kindness and regard than any from Mirkwood should expect. I would have been contented to bond with Lord Elrond and remain within Imladris's steep walls, had he bid me do so."
"And so he refused you. Why?"
"It is as your brother has said; I am to have some affection for him before he will initiate our bonding. Perhaps he feels that affection will begin with a tour of Imladris's borders. You are lucky in your parentage," he added wisfully. "Even as your father supports your desire to defend your land and its people, Thranduil denied me this very thing. He thinks my skills worthless."
"Worthless?" Elrohir exploded.
Legolas nodded. "He finds in me an unruly prince, unable to tolerate being at court and of no use in his diplomacies. Hence, I was bartered as consort."
"To Lord Elrond, the monster of Imladris." Elrohir fell back in line with Legolas's own mount, the better to stare in disbelief at Legolas. "I begin to see why our father has offered you the freedom to run with us. Have you found the resentments held by Thranduil to be founded?"
"I have not. Your father seems a just and wise ruler. His horses like him."
Elladan snorted at that recommendation of character. "Don't Thranduil's horses like him?"
Legolas shrugged. "The king of Mirkwood does not care for horses on the whole."
The twins exchanged a look as if to say, Well, there you are, there's no hope for Thranduil.
"So your father wishes a son who is a happy lover rather than a warrior?" Elrohir pursued.
"Thranduil couldn't care less about my happiness," Legolas revealed mildly. "He wishes his younger, loathesome son to be of use by finalizing the brokered alliance between Mirkwood and Imladris so that it can never be broken."
"You're nothing but a pawn," Elrohir concluded, "sent miserable and desperate but not in love with Father. Thranduil's even managed to make Father a pawn in this mess."
Legolas nodded. "But that does not mean we are not without some little affection for each other, even in these early days. I will support Elrond any way I can, up to and including finding a way for both of us to squirm out of the trap Thranduil has so effectively laid for both of us."
"You don't call Thranduil Adar, do you?" Elrohir observed.
"The king of Mirkwood betrayed me," Legolas said simply. "I have no father."
"That is... quite a statement," Elladan murmured. Both twins fell silent with that, no doubt contemplating what it would take for them to utter the same pronouncement.
"And so..." Elladan ventured cautiously long seconds later, "you like Lord Elrond and he likes you. That is progess, I suppose."
"Whatever comes, Prince of Mirkwood, it is my hope that you find the peace in Imladris that you cannot in your homeland," Elrohir added.
All things considered, Legolas thought as he sat in the tree and waited for dawn, it was the best he could do, considering his situation. The twins seemed satisfied with the discussion had that first day; after that, they'd treated him as a fellow warrior and stopped questioning him regarding the alliance and their father.
[Things could be much worse,] he thought. [Could still be in that cell.]
Entering Imladris's cavernous library and climbing the Council dias, Glorfindel threw himself so hard into the chair next to Elrond that it rocked sideways on two legs.
"Careful," Elrond murmured. "If you land in the ferns, no one will take your opinions at Council seriously until next season."
"As if I care," the Elf-lord grumbled, jerking at his robes to arrange them properly, and glowering at Elrond. "I'd rather be at the stable."
"So you've said many times."
"I'm glad you have these council gatherings only twice monthly, Elrond. Any more frequently, and I'd be sorely tempted to run away with the twins just to avoid these afternoons. I must admit to a certain curiosity as to why you're sitting up here on your throne all by yourself, staring off into the distance and looking terribly pensive. You're not worrying over about Lego... erm, Lasgalen, are you?"
"I am not worried about him so much as wondering where he is and what he is doing," said Elrond. "He has been gone for three days and is due back in a matter of hours, yet I miss him."
The simple admission earned the Elf-lord a pointed look from Glorfindel, but there was no further opportunity for him to poke at the Lord of Imladris as members of the inner council began filing into the library and onto the dias. Elrond withdrew immediately into his Lord of Imladris mode, while Glorfindel removed to his own chair and schooled his features and his spirit for the long, boring afternoon to come. Sometimes, he felt that it would be glorious if he and Elrond could have run their beloved sanctuary all by themselves.
Glorfindel stifled a yawn as Elrond meandered through the agenda. Winter stores were discussed, how much grain and dried fruits and fodder for the livestock remained after Mirkwood's demands had depleted their supplies. Glorfindel himself updated everyone on the outcome of injuries to Elrond's horses; how many lives had to be ended due to the fire and how many had been spared after their desperate efforts.
"Most will never be whole again," Glorfindel reluctantly shared.
"Does that include the foundation sire, Assassin?"
"He is lucky to be among the living," revealed Elrond. "Without Lasgalen's efforts, Assassin would have joined the others in being sent on."
The elves all murmured various versions of thanks, some grumbling as the Elf in question was, after all, from Mirkwood.
"Do we know yet who set the fire?" someone prodded.
Not yet," Elrond admitted.
"But it was deliberately set?"
"We suspect as much," said Glorfindel. "Lanterns have never been allowed in the stable, Elves have no need for them, and--"
"Then you suspect a Mortal deliberately set the fire?" Istian pounced.
"I never said that."
"You didn't need to, Lord Glorfindel," Istian all but purred. Elrond had long had to deal with this advisor's prejudice against mortals. If Istian had his way, no mortal would ever set foot inside Imladris's borders. "Surely, with the limited number of Men entering our borders, it should be easy to ascertain who the culprit is?"
"Avenues of culpability are being explored," said Elrond. "Let us move on to the next topic for discussion."
Glorfindel knew that Elrond had his own suspicions of how the fire had started - suspicions that could not be voiced in open Council. He himself was exploring, in private and in secret, the very avenues Elrond had mentioned, poking his nose where it shouldn't be and listening at various metaphorical keyholes.
Glorfindel had not failed to notice that Elrond's eyes had grown cold as a winter storm during the discussion of the horrible fate that had befallen some of his horses. Privately, Glorfindel believed that only a Mortal could have deliberately subjected such beauty and nobility to cruel injury and death. [It is my hope,] thought Glorfindel, [that a hellish outer ring is reserved for such murderers wherever mortals go after death.]
If the arsonist was found, he or she would find themselves wishing that anyone in Middle-earth would mete out punishment rather than Glorfindel and the Lord of Imladris.
"Lord Elrond, we would beg to inquire after your alliance with the Prince of Mirkwood," always diplomatic Galutirith introduced the next topic. "We have sent all of the goods that you ordered be sent to King Thranduil, and yet only a scout from his fair kingdom has arrived to acknowledge the pending alliance."
"I'm sure that Prince Legolas will arrive in due course," Elrond soothed. "No doubt he is traveling at this very moment."
[Traveling, indeed,] thought Glorfindel.
"It is a misbegotten betrothal if you ask me," Túrgwaith grumped. His black hair gleamed in the sunlight, a stark contrast to his hard blue eyes. "Already and again this century, Thranduil is taking much and giving nothing back. He usually begins as he intends to continue, and I see nothing of value for Imladris in this depressing alliance. Why you would agree to such a thing, and for eternity, is beyond a great many of us, Lord Elrond."
"You would do well to remember that the Dark Lord's power is strengthening once again, Túrgwaith." Elrond cautioned. "It is imperative that the three kingdoms unite soon, that we face him and his minions as one. A lasting alliance will lay the foundation for us to do this very thing."
"Be that as it may," Galutirith took up the gauntlet, "you are much beloved by those within Imladris and no few without as well. We would never require you to sacrifice all hope of marital happiness by bonding with such an unsuitable candidate."
"How do you know he's unsuitable?" Glorfindel inserted.
"A lasting alliance with a misbegotten son of Mirkwood could bring no one happiness," Túrgwaith spoke as plainly as he ever had. "Nothing we do will ever force Thranduil to support Lothlorian and Imladris. Mark my words, Elrond: your alliance via this prince will matter little should war come again to our borders. Even as happened during the last age at Mount Oraduin, Mirkwood's army will fail. Imladris will be required to defend Thranduil's lands as well as our own, while Celeborn guards Lothlorian as best he can. Thranduil has proven incompetent on the battlefield and unreliable in times of peace. I doubt this young son of Mirkwood can force him to act other than as he has in the past - especially as he is undoubtedly cut from the same cloth as his father - and so what will this new marriage accomplish, except to make you personlly wretched, Elrond Half-Elven?"
Glorfindel noted the informal state of address - insolent and this side of an insult to the Elf-lord who had created Imladris and ruled for centuries with all of the power and commitment within him. Elrond had risen from his chair and took a step forward to meet Túrgwaith's challenge when a new voice rang out from the direction of the library proper.
"The coming alliance between Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, and the Lord of Imladris will neither be misbegotten or unreliable."
Every head turned to see the golden-haired Elf pacing deliberately up the steps and onto the dias. Storm-filed blue eyes locked into Elrond's own amazed gray as Legolas set aside his bow, shrugged out of his quiver and set it aside. Still covered with the dust of his journey, Legolas came to stand close beside Elrond and lean into him, as one horse will lean into another to offer affection and support.
"Legolas is not like his father," the prince in question stated. "His sense of honor is very much intact, and he has already aligned himself with Lord Elrond, else he would never have agreed to the marriage bond in the first place. If the Dark Lord should attack, Lord Elrond's consort will stand with him in battle and obey his orders in all defense of Imladris."
"Who in the name of Elbereth are you to speak for a prince of Mirkwood?" Túrgwaith demanded.
"Lasgalen is an authorized representative of that realm," Elrond replied, while Glorfindel sat up straighter and took an avid interest in the proceedings. "I trust that Lasgalen speaks the truth, and ask you to listen well to his words."
"What would you tell us of Mirkwood, young scout, that we do not already know?" Istion asked in more gentle tones, but demanding nonetheless. "Surely Thranduil will expect our army to stand with him?"
"A portion of Imladris's army, no doubt," Legolas agreed, "but are there not many years between that probability and necessity? As the years pass, I'm sure that Lord Elrond will give King Thranduil every opportunity to balance the alliance between our kingdoms. The king and his people will no doubt be of domestic service to Imladris long before Imladris must be of military service to Mirkwood."
"So you're saying that if Mirkwood is not willing to uphold its end of the agreement, we may take steps to curb its unwillingness," Elrond inserted.
"Yes, but at the same time I do not think those steps will be necessary. Our Sylvan citizens have little in common with Thranduil."
"Be that as it may," Túrgwaith growled, "what have the simple Elves of Mirkwood to do with upholding any agreement between two ancient and revered houses?"
"We value Imladris's kindness, its support and its influence within our borders. With your Lord Elrond's compassion and consistency, tight bonds of friendship will have been forged between our two people long before military action is required. If this happens, Imladris's warriors might be eager to fight for Mirkwood's preservation, despite whatever shortcomings its king may have."
Túrgwaith considered for a long moment. Exchanging a glance with the other members of the council, he nodded. "We shall see, Lasgalen, beginning with your Prince of Mirkwood. If he doesn't turn out to be a total dolt, Imladris will want to see more of him and others of his ilk from Mirkwood."
"Of course, my lord." Legolas bowed politely, though Glorfindel noted his jaw was locked. Idly, he wondered how much of a strain it was for this young warrior-elf to school his tongue to diplomacy. Aloud Legolas offered, "I am certain Lord Elrond's consort will do all within his power to please you."
Glorfindel didn't think he was the only one hearing the touch of sarcasm tingeing that low, melodic voice. Glancing at Elrond, he saw that the Elf-lord had bowed his head to hide a smile. [He prefers spirited horses,] Glorfindel reflected. [No surprise that he also prefers a spirited mate. They will do well together.]
"It is true that at present Mirkwood has little to offer you in the form of goods," Legolas continued. "It is also true that the people of Mirkwood are somewhat dependent upon the surplus of foodstuffs and other things you send them. I suspect that my homeland will always need you more than you need it if such measurements are made in goods alone. But I beg you to consider that Dol Guldur lies within our borders, with much of our energies taken up with containing that threat. Such efforts have always prevented many of the Dark Lord's shadows from ever reaching Imladris and Lothlorien. Other evils approach our borders as well - orcs and mammoth spiders, wolves and black beasts under the Dark One's command. His strength grows year by year, and Mirkwood experiences it before it spreads to the rest of Middle-earth.
"We do what we can to limit its spread, but we also know our limitations. Those limitations are another reason Thranduil seeks a permanent alliance with you. Your strength is known to us and yes, we seek your protection and assistance in dark times, but we also have much to offer in the way of ongoing defense and intelligence. It is difficult for Mirkwood's king to admit any shortcomings, but I am here to assure you that Legolas does not share this fault with his father. The prince has served many years in the field with both Rangers and Elves, so that he knows Mirkwood's weaknesses firsthand. I am sure such knowledge will prove invaluable. Additionally, I know that Legolas has the interests of all the Eldar at heart, no matter what his father, the king, may intend."
"I also have it on good authority that Legolas is the spy whom Mithrandir sent thrice into Dol Guldur," said Elrond. "His personal intelligence has already proven invaluable."
A disbelieving murmur went up at that news. "Thranduil risked his youngest inside the bastioned walls of Dol Guldur?"
"What was Mithrandir thinking? Only a seasoned warrior could come out of there alive," said Galutirith. "Three hundred summers could not have passed since the young prince's birth."
"Then I would say, no matter his lack of years, this Legolas is a seasoned warrior," said Glorfindel, catching Legolas's eye and offering a grin. "He's probably had to be, if only to stay alive in Mirkwood's forests, never mind within Dol Guldur. Mithrandir chose his spy wisely, I'd say. I trust that our Lord Elrond has chosen his pending partner with equal care."
"I know that Mithrandir, the Rangers, and the guards of Mirkwood tendered have tendered no complaints against his abilities," Legolas said smoothly.
"And our own assessment of his gifts will have to wait until he arrives." Glorfindel nodded. "You speak well of your prince, Lasgalen; he and King Thranduil would be gratified to hear such words."
"So the Rangers like him." Túrgwaith nodded. "That is well, but I hear he's a strange Elf. Always out of bounds, running along the borders. That's not normal for a prince raised at court."
"The prince in question was not raised at court," Legolas said.
Túrgwaith scowled at him. "Explain."
"Legolas's interests lay elsewhere. He has spent very little time at court, away from the conspiracies and machinations inherent within Thranduil's keep. You may therefore consider him both proof and safeguard against Thranduil's future maneuvering."
"We shall see, Lasgalen of Mirkwood. We shall see." Istion nodded and so the discussion ended.
The meeting dispersed soon thereafter, with Elrond's advisors quickly vacating the library and leaving Glorfindel behind with his lord and Legolas.
"I'm impressed, Lasgalen." Getting up to stretch his legs, Glorfindel offered a mock bow. "For a mere scout, you can be quite the diplomat... Temperate, observant, serene at least on the outside, which is more than I can say for a few of your counselors, Elrond."
"Mmmphm," Elrond agreed.
Reclaiming his chair as the discussion had concluded, Elrond was now leaning comfortably back and resting his chin in the palm of his hand. Glorfindel didn't make the mistake of believing the Elf-lord was focused on him; no, Elrond had eyes only for Legolas, who was still standing close at his side and looking every inch the young guardian and protector.
"You can stand down, Legolas," Glorfindel sought to reassure him. "Túrgwaith won't be back today."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Relax your stance," Glorfindel urged, nudging the younger Elf's foot with his boot. "Your weapons are well within reach, and you're standing battle-ready with your weight shifted forward, as if at any moment you might have to grab a knife in defense of Elrond's life."
Blinking, Legolas rocked back and stared at Glorfindel. "I... wasn't aware I was doing that. I hope it wasn't too obvious to the others?"
"No doubt they did," Glorfindel responded.
"No doubt," agreed Elrond. "They're all seasoned warriors, but don't fret; it can't have hurt your argument any to appear as if you were willing to die for me... or at least in conviction of your words."
"I sought only to contradict and perhaps reassure them that my intentions, at least, are somewhat more virtuous than my father's."
"You certainly accomplished that," said Glorfindel. "Had you not, we'd still be arguing Prince Legolas's worth and Túrgwaith's misgivings."
"I did well then?"
"Very well, indeed." Rising to his feet, Elrond impulsively reached out to gather Legolas into a one-armed hug. The moment he did it, the Elf-lord thought he shouldn't, as Glorfindel's scrutiny would undoubtedly make Legolas shy away. Much to Elrond's surprise, Legolas leaned into the embrace.
"My experience in such councils is limited," the younger Elf confessed.
[So many of Legolas's mannerisms and reactions are equine,] Glorfindel realized, watching the exchange. [Is he even aware that he's doing it? And is Elrond aware that he's responding to Legolas with all the mindful affection I've seen him bestow on his beloved young colts?]
"Be assured," said Elrond, "you did very well considering it was your first council meeting and probably not your last."
"Not... my... last." The blue eyes widened at that, and Glorfindel thought Legolas considered bolting from Elrond's embrace, if not from the dias. Still, the young Elf had spirit. Subsiding back against Elrond, he sighed and looked resigned. "I will seek your advice in the future, certainly, on how to address each member in order to avoid their scorn."
"Today, they related to you as a lowly emissar. Their attitudes will become more respectful once your identity is revealed," Elrond pointed out.
Legolas nodded. "Everything will change then. Some for the better, some for the worst, I imagine."
"Fame has its price, after all." Glorfindel grinned. "I should know, after all."
"Don't start that old tale again," Elrond protested. "Weren't you saying earlier how much you wanted to return to the stables?"
"I was, indeed. And I'm not so legendary that I can't recognize a desire to get rid of me when I hear one." He offered a brief bow to Elrond first, then Legolas. "Welcome home, Lasgalen. I trust your journey was safe and swift."
"It was. I'm eager to see some of the horses again, so perhaps I'll see you later in the stables. "
"Assassin will await your visit," Glorfindel said affably before taking his leave of the dias and the library.