Chapter 30

The rain beat down upon the roofs of the house as I led Thranduil to my study. The map on the table lay as we had left it and the chair in which I had held Legolas so close appeared to me suddenly achingly empty. I drew the curtain against the rain and possibly also against any curious eyes. I had evaded the looks of my family and my household on my way here but I felt it: the weight of my sons' shock as I passed by them, and the flood of questions that lay just beyond reach.

Right now, however, I would rather have been subjected to them than to Thranduil's wrath as he came to stand in the centre of the room. The rain seemed to have had little effect on him, whereas I, where I remained by the window, felt deeply uncomfortable and exposed.

"Tell me," he said, and his voice was low and flat, "of your intentions."

I fingered the curtain. Arwen had woven it during last winter and I drew strength from that: from the suggestion of her presence there with me. It was a haven of greens and blues, shot with gold, like an early dawn over the mighty forests of old.

"Truly I had none," I said finally, and somehow my voice held. "Never had I imagined anything like this for myself."

He was eyeing me closely and it seemed to me then that some of his rage was leaving him. With a curt nod he motioned at me to go on.

"I had well-nigh lost myself to grief," I said, dragging the threadbare memories forth. "Celebrían had sailed and asked of me to sever our connection. It almost broke me. And so it was like this that I came to your halls: wondering how I was going to endure another spring, let alone another year. The world, as it turned around me, seemed utterly dark and dense… unreachable in a way..."

The rain splashed upon the windowsill. I wished I could be out there with it and lose myself in it, and in the softness of the grass under my feet, but Thranduil was before me and I owed him this tale. I drew another breath.

"When I laid eyes upon your son I was changed," I said simply. "He… shone. It was as if I could see clearly again and I tasted all that which had before turned to dust in my mouth. I barely spoke to him that first time, for he came upon us as we were leaving, but it was in that moment that light again filled my world."

Thranduil did not move but his stony silence forced forth more words from me.

"When I met him again on my second visit, I think I knew." Unbidden, the memory of Legolas' laughter and long looks rose in my mind and, despite everything, it drew a smile from me where I stood now. "But I was ready to dismiss it for such love was unknown to me and I had no intention of binding again with anyone. Also," I gave a small nod, "he was your son."

"You are bonded then?"

I could not decipher the way he looked at me and nor did I understand the tone of his voice.

"I have opened my heart to him," I said cautiously. "Binding among the Elves is a complicated matter…"

"Not the way I see it," he said, and now finally he moved. He half turned away from me and he shook his head. "If you have, as you say, opened your heart to him and he has done the same in turn, and has taken you into his, then he is yours."

I stared at him while the floor shifted under my feet. "You would willingly give him away?"

He slid me a hard glance. "It appears Legolas is not mine to give away any longer."

I needed a moment to accept this. The singing of the rain came on strong winds and the curtain would have lifted from the window had I still not been holding its edge. Far off in the distance, as if belonging to another world entirely, came the first rolls of thunder.

"I was planning on riding to the Forest," I said at last, choosing for the moment to address what I thought was a more manageable aspect of this debate. "I was going to ride to Mirkwood with Legolas and there let you know."

But at this he laughed a peculiar laugh and when he spoke, a chill ran down my spine:

"Do you think me a fool, Elrond? Long have I watched my youngest for fear that he should break his heart in pursuit of such love that the world would withhold from him. Do you think I did not see the light that was kindled in him when he spoke with you in my own halls?"

His eyes fixed on mine and they were ice once more, brilliantly sharp and clear.

"And you seemed uplifted in his company," he said, "delighted even, it seemed to me. And it appeared you accepted his ways. Therefore, I sent him with you, to see if more could ever come of it."

I gaped at him now. "You devised such a plan?"

"Of course," said he, and there crept across his face a smile, not free from a shade of satisfaction. "And it is my impression that I was successful in my endeavour. Tell me, Elrond… Have you bedded him?"

That was when I finally sat down. I could not feel my own legs as I made for the chair I had only a short while ago shared with Legolas, but I knew I sank down into it. I could not speak of this to Thranduil. I could not allow the memories of Legolas – his son – bathed in moonlight and high-strung with lust invade my mind now. I pushed at them, willed them away into the rain and the grass where I might one day find them and treat them better.

But Thranduil's spoke again and he said:

"No matter. You need not answer for the truth is written on your face."

He moved, paced a semi-circle before me and then came to a stop. His voice was cool. "Since you are bonded and you have bedded him, this demand I lay now at your feet: you shall wed him, Elrond."

I looked up at him at last. "Wed him?"

"Naturally," he said. "It is my condition. If you do not agree to it, I shall leave Imladris and take Legolas with me, and you shall never see him again."

A chill had seeped into the room. It rushed against my skin and sifted through my hair. It was long since I had been truly cold at all, but now I felt icy fingers slide over my neck and down my throat.

"This was your plan?" I whispered.

"It has now become it," said he. "For these are now the circumstances."

"Legolas fears your ire," I said slowly. "As did I."

He dismissed this. "A small price to pay for a short time. And shorter indeed than I had intended. For ere I knew it, word reached me of the connection you had formed with him, and those tidings pleased me greatly. It was Mithrandir, of course, who sent the message."

"Mithrandir?" I felt the floor give way entirely and it was a good thing I was seated.

"Oh, aye," he said loftily.

"He knew your schemes?"

"No," said Thranduil. "But he served me well nonetheless. Did you not see him among my guard? By chance, we met him on the road." And now his smile blossomed fully, and he lifted his chin at me. "My blessing you shall have, Elrond, when you agree to marry Legolas."

o.O.o

I sat long in silence after he had left me. I had trouble untangling my thoughts but they were in any case fleeting and half-shaped, like threads torn from a weave in a wind. The rain stopped at some point and the light failed and an uneasy dusk settled. It was around that time that there came a knock at my door and Mithrandir appeared among the building shadows.

He beheld me and his eyes glimmered in an oddly haunting way that immediately sat ill with me. He seemed somewhat stooped where he stood in the doorway.

"Forgive an old man, Elrond?" he asked softly.

I shook my head but he entered nonetheless and, with a rustle of his long travel-stained robe, claimed the chair opposite mine. It was a while before he spoke again but when he did, he did so gently:

"I meant to cause you no pain," he said, "and none to young Legolas. But I saw the way you looked at him and how there had come again a light in your eyes. And when I heard you speak of it," he smiled, "I knew this was not a chance that could be squandered."

"So you sent word to Thranduil?" My voice, in contrast, was sharp.

"I did. But only after I had made sure, as you might recall, that you had great love for Legolas. And he for you."

"And it did not once strike you that I should have been the one to inform his father?"

"Certainly it did," he said, as if there could be no doubt about it. "But tell me, when were you going to set out for Mirkwood? Tomorrow, hm? This autumn? Next spring perhaps?" He shook his head and his long grey beard rippled. "Can you honestly tell me, Elrond, that you had set a date?"

I looked away from him, into the shadows. "No," I admitted. "You are right."

"So your love would have been kept secret," he said, "and never allowed to fully bloom. And it was imperative that it did. It still is, I think. For your sorrow lies still too near to the surface."

There was silence for a while after that but finally I turned back to him. "Thranduil requires now that I wed Legolas. Would that not be the strangest thing?"

His bright eyes narrowed. "Many strange things have there been. And many are yet to come."

"Even so."

"Ah," he said, "Well… You are male, as is Legolas, and that is what it is. And it may not have been what Thranduil desired in essence, but in reality…" He thrummed his fingers on the armrest. "Allow me to speak candidly, Elrond."

I did not smile. Indeed, I felt as if fashioned out of stone. "You never do anything but."

For a brief moment Mithrandir looked quite pleased, but he was serious when he continued:

"As I know it, Legolas is the youngest of several brothers. He can never hope to inherit his father's realm should his brothers – Goodness forbid – not somehow perish. But a match such as this: a marriage between himself and the Lord of Imladris. Surely it is more than Thranduil could ever have hoped for concerning his youngest."

"So it is politics, then."

"Oh, it was always politics with Thranduil."

"Aye… You are right, perhaps."

Mithrandir chuckled. "Of course I am right. But let that not deter you, Elrond, and do not deny the love between yourself and Legolas."

I eyed him intently. A most unwelcome suspicion was beginning to crawl through my heart.

"But if that is his father's aim," I began slowly, "what is there to say that his son does not also aspire to it? What is to say that Legolas does not seek the same?"

Mithrandir frowned. "You doubt him?"

"I did not, until you spoke your mind just now." For, in truth, a cold hand had wrapped around my heart and its beating was weakened.

"Then I must ask your forgiveness," he said, and over his face drew a sorrowful shadow. "I do not perceive such scheming in him. He loves you, Elrond. Of that I am quite certain."

"Could he not do both: love me and seek to secure his future?"

Mithrandir regarded me long, his blue eyes heavy on my form. "Turn him away, then, Elrond," he said quietly, at last. "And see if he succumbs to sorrow of the heart or realisation of having lost any claim he might have held to the Valley."

"He holds no claim to Imladris."

"Well, then. In that case you have naught to fear. Nay, I say you shall wed if that seems appropriate to you, and if he is willing. And for no other reason than the love you bear for one another."

But the shadows were creeping forth.

TBC