Chapter Thirteen
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SUMMARY: Legolas finally arrives at the gates of the Golden Wood and meets with the Lord and Lady.
Thranduil is finding it difficult to be patient, but luckily his Bowman is close by.
Turamarth is ready to travel to Lothlórien with the rest of the wedding party and is thrilled to have a second chance to get to know Evranin better.
Until...
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And the years rolled slowly past
And I found myself alone
Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends
Found myself further and further from my home and I
Guess I lost my way...
I began to find myself searchin'
Searchin' for shelter again and again…
-"Against the Wind," by Bob Seger
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Lothlórien, 26th of May 2944, T.A.
After Legolas took care of his horse, he carried his bags to the small guest talan that had been appointed to him. After washing off the dust and grime from the road, he changed into a clean outfit and sat on the balcony to await the summons from the Lord and Lady.
"Maedol, Beleg!" A Warden came up the stairs toward him with a grin. "I am the Marchwarden's youngest brother, Rúmil. I was away the last time you were here, and was sorry I missed you."
"Ni veren an dhe ngovaned, Rúmil," Legolas saluted. "I have heard your brother speak of you with great fondness. I understand you were part of the exchange between your Army and that of King Thranduil's?"
"I was." The Warden eyed him with mild confusion. "I am given to understand you are a Guardian in the Woodland Realm; yet I did not meet you during my stay."
"I was… away on a mission. I cannot speak of it, but I am glad to make your acquaintance, now. How did you find the North?"
"I spent most of my time serving your King Thranduil in Dale where he lives with his family, and learned much of the world of Men," Rúmil said. "I cherish the memories of my time there, but I am glad to be home."
Legolas shook his head. "After giving up a year in this paradise to defend a sick forest? One can hardly blame you for that."
"Yet I am certain you have the same fondness for your homeland as I do for mine," Rúmil said, perplexed.
"Oh, I do," he said thoughtfully. "Did you make any friends?"
"I keep in touch with several of the Guardians and consider them life-long friends." He tilted his head curiously. "Perhaps you know them?"
"Whom did you meet?"
"I served in the Royal Guard and worked with Turamarth, Ruvyn, Ivran, and Meldon, although the last of them has been called to the Halls of Mandos, I am sorry to say."
Legolas swallowed hard, lowering his gaze to the floor. "I heard he was killed, and my heart is heavy at the news," he said quietly. "Meldon was one of my closest friends."
"I am truly sorry for your loss, Mellon. He was an exemplary soldier and a friend to me, as well. He is greatly missed by everyone I knew in the North."
"I would very much like to hear more about your adventures, last year. If you would be willing to share them, of course."
"I would like that, but I am due to go to the fences in a few days and will be gone for nearly a month. Perhaps when I return, we might share our adventures some evening over wine and good food? In the meantime, I am to escort you to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, at once."
"I will be glad to follow," Legolas rose to his feet with a smirk. "I have been here before, but the walkways are still a mystery to me."
Rúmil patted his shoulder with a snort. "You are not the only visitor to has felt this way."
He followed the Warden, carefully memorizing the way. Eventually they came to the largest, highest dwelling in the City. Here he was in familiar surroundings; he stood in this receiving hall with Halbarad and the Dúnedain a couple of years ago.
Presently, a door opened on the landing at the top of the stairs, and out walked Celeborn, with Galadriel on his arm. They were joined by Lady Arwen, daughter of Elrond. She smiled and held his gaze as the three of them walked down the steps to greet him.
"Leave us," Galadriel told the Guards. Rúmil and the others bowed quietly and exited.
"Welcome, Legolas, son of Thranduil, son of Oropher, Crown Prince of the Woodland Realm." she smiled. "I mâr vín i mâr dhîn."
"My Lady…"
"Worry not, dear cousin; no one can hear us," she assured him.
He held perfectly still, as her eyes, older than recorded time, searched his heart and soul. He felt exposed and uncomfortable, and a bit resentful; nothing could be concealed from the Lady of the Golden Wood, even the thoughts and feelings he didn't like to acknowledge.
"I see your struggles, Legolas. You are filled with anger and fear, yet I see a great desire for inner peace. Why have you not explored these matters with Lord Elrond?"
He had no reply, and his eyes fell to the smooth white floor of the hall. Soft fingers reached under his chin and lifted his gaze to meet the Lady's. Her smile was sympathetic, and her eyes, though full of understanding, issued a challenge.
"Do not be afraid, young Prince. Before you leave this land, matters will be settled."
"In what way, My Lady?" Legolas breath caught on the last word.
"That will be up to you," she said, still grasping his chin. "You are at a crossroads in your life, my child, and I cannot choose your path."
Galadriel's words offered no comfort; there was none to give. Though he had tried to run away from his pain with travel and adventure, though Elrond had tried to help him, Legolas finally had face facts: the distance he had put between himself and Tauriel had helped his feelings slowly settle back into the fondness he always had, but no amount of time or distance could heal the chasm between himself and his Adar. The blonde prince squared his shoulders and said with a confidence he did not feel,
"Whatever you ask of me, I will do."
The Lady leaned down to kiss his brow. "I would expect nothing less from the son of Thranduil and Mírelen. Your parents are renowned for their courage, and I am happy to see the same in you."
She stepped back and motioned for Arwen to come forward. "Ni veren an dhe ngovaned. I look forward to speaking with you of your mother."
Legolas bowed and kissed her hand. "Thank you, My Lady. I am eager to learn more about her."
"It is good to see you, again, Ettā Legolas," Celeborn stepped forward to embrace him.
"And I you, Ettā Celeborn."
"Go," he said, not unkindly. "Rest now, and we will send for you presently. I assume you are weary from your long journey, so a meal will be brought to your quarters."
"Thank you. I appreciate the private accommodations, but please do not go to so much trouble on my account. I would be happy to join the Wardens in the barracks."
"Another time, perhaps," the Lord replied cryptically. "During this stay, you will be grateful for the privacy."
Legolas formally saluted all of them, and he opened the door to the receiving chamber, where Rúmil was waiting to take him back.
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After Arwen left to rejoin her friends, Celeborn went to the window to watch the young Ellon pensively wander around the buildings on the forest floor. "Do you have a plan in mind to help him?"
"I am afraid I do." Galadriel came to his side and rubbed his upper arm. "I fear it will be traumatic, but we have tried everything else."
"I worry, Hervess nîn. You are still not fully recovered from Dol Guldur, and I know your progress was hampered the night we helped Thranduil and Tilda."
"Yes, but—"
"And you insisted upon traveling to Dale to see them." His turned to face her, his brows drawn together with concern. "It was a wonderful visit, but you were far too weary upon our return." He took her hands and rubbed the backs of them with his thumbs. "Are you certain you are up to this?"
"I will do better if you were there with me, Hervenn nîn."
"I would insist upon it, whether you wanted me there or not. I am also going to ask the Master Healer to stand by." The resolve on Celeborn's face was enhanced by the hard tightening of his jaw. "Make no mistake, if I see you weaken yourself to the point where you will do yourself injury, I will stop you."
Galadriel sighed, and pulled them over to a nearby bench. "I understand your worry, and I love you dearly for it. Throughout the ages, you have been my protector, my champion and no one could love you more than I." She reached pressed her palm against his cheek. "Do those things, yes. But you understand the importance of what we need to accomplish, do you not? If your young cousin does not willingly alter his viewpoint, he may not fulfill his destiny. What will happen then? Not just to us, but to all of Middle Earth? The Dark Lord knows he will play a vital role in his downfall and has hunted him since childhood to prevent his defeat, and we must make sure the son of Thranduil is prepared, when the time comes." 1
"But you also have an important role to play in those events, do you not? It is my task to make sure you will be strong enough." Celeborn leaned toward her and lowered his voice. "Although I admit, my motives are more personal, Meleth nîn; I love you, and cannot bear to see you put yourself at risk."
"I love you," she leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes. "Without you by my side, I am nothing. Your love has given me hope when I can find none, and strength when I feel none. Whatever happens, we will face it together, to serve the Valar."
"I fear we will still lose much, though we are victorious."
"We will, but if the Valar grants me permission to sail, then we will see our families, and build a new life," she smiled up at him. "And I will still have you."
Celeborn returned her smile, then after a pause, said, "Eventually, Meleth nîn." 2
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City of Dale; 31st of May 2944 T.A.
Thranduil was in his office when Ivran knocked.
"Neledho," he called. "Suil, Ivran! Are you ready for your feast this evening?"
"I am looking forward to it, Aran nîn," the Guardian grinned. "I do hope the Marchwarden's supply of wine has run out?"
"Whether it has or has not is immaterial to me; I do not plan to touch a drop of it." Thranduil shuddered. "I do not believe I have thanked you for your service that night."
"I distinctly remember forgetting about that, Hîr nîn." Ivran's mouth twitched slightly. 3 He handed the King a folded piece of paper. "This just arrived from Lothlórien via falcon, My Lord."
"Thank you," He said, "You may go." to the Guard, who then left him to read it in private:
Suil, Ettā:
Beleg has arrived and is currently safe and well within our borders. Elrond sent a letter of explanation, which I will forward to you when the party returns from the wedding. I am sorry you cannot accompany them – but we hope to see you all soon. Much love to your family.
Celeborn
The Elvenking walked around his desk and went to see his husband, who was finishing up a meeting with Constable Tom, regarding his increasing needs for personnel and funding.
"Oh; I am sorry to interrupt." He said courteously. "I will wait outside."
"No, no, My Lord," Tom stood up. "We were just finishing up." The large burly man turned to Bard and bowed. "I thank you, My Lord."
"No Tom; thank you. Let me work things out with Alan and Evan to see what we can come up with; we don't want to overburden the constables we already have.
"It is better if the Dale folk serve their own, but if the need is immediate, I can see about sending you help from Feren's troops," Thranduil offered. "Do not hesitate to ask, Constable."
"That's kind of you, My Lord," Tom nodded his thanks. "So far, we've been handling things, but people are moving here from all over at a quick pace and forewarned is forearmed, as they say."
"A wise plan. My offer stands, nonetheless." Thranduil bowed his head in a respectful salute.
After Tom left, he asked his husband, "Do you have a minute, Meleth?"
"I always have a time for you," Bard's smile reached his eyes. "What's up, love?"
Thranduil shut the door behind him and handed over the note for Bard to read, as he sat down.
Bard didn't return to the chair behind his desk but moved the other chair to face him. After skimming the words on the paper, he rubbed his temples. "That's a surprise, isn't it? What do you think?"
"I am worried, Bard." He licked his lips, then expressed the thought growing in his mind. "Do you think I should go with the wedding party tomorrow?"
Bard sat back and chose his words carefully. "I'd love to say yes, you know that. I also think if Celeborn thought it would help for you to be there, he'd say so, wouldn't he?"
"I was afraid you would say that." A sigh escaped the Elvenking as studied his hands.
"Have you contacted Indis yet?"
"I sent a message to the Palace yesterday, asking her to come, but I did not disclose the specific reason. I would not be comfortable putting my problems on paper."
"Makes sense," Bard agreed with a nod. I advise waiting to see what she says. I also think she will tell you what you already know." He rose, pulled the Elf to his feet pulled him into a hug. "I can feel what this is like for you," he touched his own heart, then Thranduil's chest. "Remember what Mírelen told you: Legolas has to do things in his own time."
Thranduil closed his eyes and rested his head on Bard's shoulder. "Every time we touch, I feel another part of me come to life." His voice roughened. "I cannot recall the last time I touched my own son…"
"It'll be all right, love." Bard's warm eyes looked into his. "I know it's hard, but you can't push at him. Trust Celeborn and Galadriel; I do."
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City of Dale, 31st of May, 2944 T.A., Evening in the Great Hall
The feast to celebrate Ivran's upcoming marriage was much more sedate than Daeron's party at the Long Lake Tavern a few weeks ago. Though they'd hardly admit it, most of the Men, Elves, and Dwarves were relieved. Some still became nauseous at the sight and smell of liquor.
Turamarth chose a light ale to drink. He'd developed a liking for it during the Long Winter evenings in the Great Hall as he played Darts with Bofur or cards with Lord Percy, or the many other activities Percy had organized to cheer the lonely Men as they worked to build new loves for their loved ones.
Tonight, he was sitting at the table with Darryn in his lap, so his parents could join in the dancing, and when he set his tankard down on the table the toddler instantly reached for it.
"Pweese," the little boy said.
"No, Pinig," he quickly moved it out of Darryn's reach, and handed him a piece of sweet bread. "This will be more to your liking." He pointed toward Rhian and Daeron. Do see your Ada and Nana?Can you wave at them?"
"I see you are babysitting again," Ruvyn teased as he came to sit beside his friend. "Let us hope you have better luck this time."
Tur rolled his eyes. "How many people know about that?"
"Everyone," he grinned. "Come now, Mellon. You cannot expect something as funny as that to be kept secret."
"Hi, Woobin!"
"Suil, Darryn," Ruvyn tickled the baby's cheek. "Do you love your Uncle Tur?"
The boy leaned his head against Turamarth's chest and looked up at him with a huge smile. "I wuv you."
The Elf's heart melted, and he leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "Gi melin, Pinig." And he meant it. What had started out as an attempted to fill in for Daeron had grown into genuine devotion. It also awakened his own dream of a wife and children of his own, but since that disastrous day in the park, he hadn't even spoken to Evvy.
Much of that was because he was busy at work. Daeron had been Lord Bard's main Guard, but when he resigned his commission to focus on the Healing Arts and his family, Thranduil had promoted Tur in his place; he was not only in charge of Lord Bard's protection, but the security of the entire Castle. The paperwork was hard to get used to, as was making the transition as smooth as possible for the Royal Family.
If Turamarth was completely honest, he had to admit he'd been avoiding Evranin, too. Convinced he'd ruined his chances with her, there was nothing he could do but watch her leave with the wedding party, never to return.
But this morning, when Lord Thranduil had unexpectedly summoned him to his office and inform him he would be part of the escort to Lothlórien, he was thrilled 4
Turamarth's bags were packed and sitting in his apartment and Sandastan had been thoroughly examined to make sure he was fit to travel. His insides vibrated, but he couldn't tell if it was from excitement or nervousness.
Ruvyn jabbed him with his elbow and jerked his head in the direction of their table. "Go ask Evvy to dance."
"I… What about Darryn?"
Ruvyn reached across the table and grabbed the baby, who giggled and snuggled against his chest. "You were saying?"
"But she thinks I am an imbecile!" Tur hissed. "Why would she—"
"Darryn?" Ruvyn stood the child on his thighs and spoke in a sing-song voice, "Do you know how to say 'Stop whining' in Sindarin? 'Avo vuio!' Can you say that?"
Darryn put a finger in his mouth and said, "Aboo weeo."
"Very good! Now let us try to say 'Scared Cat' in Sindarin, yes?"
"Ruvyn…" Tur warned.
"What?" he said innocently. "I am merely trying to increase this child's vocabulary." Ruvyn turned back to Darryn. "Say, 'Gosta-mîr.'
"Dostameer."
"Oh, that is very good! See what a smart child you are! Now, let us see of you can say 'Coward—'"
"Oh all right!" Turamarth stood up to walk across the Hall, but not before leaning down and whispering in his friend's ear, "I am telling his parents what you just taught him." When Ruvyn's face lost its pallor, he chuckled with satisfaction.
He took a deep breath and approached the table where the Galadhrim were sitting together. Haldir and Orophin were off dancing, with Princess Sigrid and Nualë, but Orlin, Penlod and Evranin were enjoying some snacks.
"Mae g'ovannen," Tur bowed his head and saluted. "Are you enjoying the festivities?"
"Turamarth!" Penlod's smile was wide. "Please; join us! This is a wonderful party."
After he was seated, he set his glass down. "I am sorry I have not seen much of you; there was much to be settled before our friends could leave."
"I understand," Evvy's smile was sweet, but he could see anxiety in her eyes. "I see the child is much happier this night."
"Yes, well… Once again, please allow me to apologize for…" his voice trailed off.
"Oh, no; I had a wonderful time, really." She said, eager to put him at ease. "Mistress Seren explained that Darryn was out of sorts because of his mother's absence. It was perfectly understandable. I had a very pleasant meal with her and Rôgon."
"You met Rôg?" he was surprised.
"Oh, yes! Actually, we all know him; he lived in our land for many years."
"I have known him much longer. Rôgon and I grew up together in Mithlond, and when I wrote and told him of the Golden Wood, he decided to come and see it. I am – or was – his Healer."
Turamarth looked around the Hall and saw the Elven Blacksmith laughing with Rod and Catrina, the owners of the Long Lake Tavern. "Why did he leave Lothlórien? Did something happen?"
"Not at all. The Lord and Lady have a number of talented Smiths, and when he heard how many Elves lived here, he decided his skills would be of better use here."
"They certainly are; he is very talented, and we appreciate him. Lord Thranduil and Commander Feren are thrilled to have him here, as am I. It is wonderful to have someone who understands the nuances of Elven weaponry."
"You will find no one better." Penlod nodded. "He is famous for his skill; the best in Eradior."
Tur took another drink and mustered his courage. "Would you join me in a dance, Evranin?" He stood and held his hand out.
"Of course," she stood and curtsied. "I would enjoy that very much."
The music was a lively song enjoyed by the Dale folk, and they moved around the floor with a joy and exuberance that was contagious. By the time the song ended, Turamarth and Evranin were both smiling and laughing, as they made their way back to the table.
"De vilui, hiril vuin," he kissed her hand.
"I 'ell nîn, nardû." Her smile was wide and when she looked up at him, there was a flutter in his chest. Ai, she was so beautiful!
"Evvy, let us take our turn," Orlin stood up suddenly, and put his hand on the small of his sister's back. "I have not danced with you all evening, and I promised our parents you would enjoy yourself."
Turamarth saw an immediate change in Evranin's demeanor, and his forehead wrinkled in confusion. He watched Orlin and Evvy take their places and wait for the music to start.
"Turamarth; Mellon nîn," Penlod said. "I would like some fresh air; can you join me?"
His gaze remained with them as Orlin spoke in earnest with his sister, then he turned to the dark-haired Healer. "I do not understand why Orlin would be upset. Have I done something wrong?"
"Not at all." Penlod put his hand on Tur's arm. He took a drink and stood up. "Come, Lieutenant."
He followed the Healer out into the Courtyard, where several others were milling around the fountain.
"Is there somewhere we can speak privately?" Penlod asked. "I think there is something you should know."
"Certainly," Tur replied with a growing sense of dread building in his stomach. He led them to a bench away from the crowds, under a small canopy and urged him to sit. "You are making me nervous, Mellon. If I have done nothing wrong, why the secrecy?"
"Because," Penlod took a seat. "Please; do not repeat what I am telling you. I do not think Orlin or Evranin wish everyone to know, but I can see your growing attraction to her, and I think she may return your interest."
"Is that a problem?"
"Not necessarily, but there are mitigating circumstances. I have known Evranin all her life and love her like a sister, but no one is more supportive or protective of her than Orlin. You have seen how shy she is, have you not? It takes a while for her to feel comfortable around people."
"Yes, I have noticed, but I thought she felt at ease with me. Did I offend her?"
"No; the opposite, in fact. Evvy's parents are…good people, but they are rather set in their ways and have some rigid expectations for their children. Orlin has a stronger personality, so he does not feel so intimidated by their wishes, and has learned to follow his own path. But Evranin is not so strong, and has not had a chance to develop much self-confidence. Personally, I think her mother takes advantage of that, and Evvy worries greatly about disappointing her parents." Penlod's face grew serious. "She is terrified of disappointing anyone."
"What are you trying to tell me, Penlod?"
The Elf took a deep breath. "The reason why she came here, was Orlin's doing. He talked their parents into letting her come, so she could take some time to consider the proposal of one of the Wardens."
Tur's mouth dropped open and his heart sank, and he slumped against the back of the seat. "She is… betrothed to someone else?"
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ELVENTRANSLATIONS:
Maedol, Beleg! – Welcome, Beleg!
I mâr vín i mâr dhîn – Our home is your home.
Ni veren an dhe ngovaned, Rúmil – I am happy to meet you, Rúmil
Maedol, Mellon nîn – Welcome, my friend.
Ettā Celeborn – Cousin Celeborn
Neledho - Enter (Command)
Suil, Darryn – Greetings, Darryn
Gi melin, Pinig – I love you, my little one
Avo vuio! – Stop whining!
Gosta-mîr – Scaredy-cat
Mae g'ovannen – Well met
De vilui, hiril vuin – Thank you, beloved lady
I 'ell nîn, nardû – It was my pleasure, Lieutenant (Lit.) "My joy, Soldier."
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NOTES:
[1] From "And Winter Came…" CH 35: /works/12026709/chapters/31617468
[2] After the War of the Ring, Galadriel sails, but her husband Celeborn stays in Middle Earth for an undetermined period of time.
[3] From "An Invincible Summer" CH 54: /works/14127870/chapters/39993237
[4] From "Legolas, Ion nîn," CH 10: /works/17088320/chapters/42097547
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