Restoration II: The Story Continues ...
by Fianna
Hugs to all who follow me, thank you so much.
Fianna
Chapter Three
"Even elves are not perfect."
The words were spoken softly, a challenge underlain, offered and waiting an expected response. Thranduil smiled faintly, leaning over the balcony railing above the alcove where Sweeney and another elf were talking. He was unabashedly eavesdropping on his new captain, waiting to see just what the half-elven ranger intended.
The elf offering the reply was no simple elven warden, but Legolas, delaying his leaving as yet, for what exactly, Thranduil did not want to acknowledge. His son sat sprawled on a low bench, legs wide, arms crossed, an amused smile curving the still youthful expression, hardened somewhat however by the shadows that lingered in his gaze.
Time and past events had given Legolas those shadows, things Thranduil had hoped he could have prevented but knew in the end that fate had been in control all along. That his son had returned to him he appreciated, that Legolas had decided to linger in Mirkwood after Thranduil's arrival back from Lorien, not so much. Legolas had the canny instinct of his father, and the wiles of a mother long gone, but not forgotten.
No, Thranduil closed his eyes against the familiar pang of grief, not forgotten at all. He brushed aside the thoughts of her, waving a hand physically as if it could erase memories held too long. He leaned over the railing again, brow quirked curiously.
Sweeney leaned against a wall, arms crossed over his chest, fingers braced beneath his chin as he waited for Legolas to reply. That it had taken several moments did not seem to concern the ranger as he looked at Thranduil's son with a clearly taunting expression.
Legolas sighed, loud enough for Thranduil to hear. "Indeed, Ranger, it is a good thing we are not. Tell me, half-elf, what traits are you most glad to not have received of the elves?"
Sweeney snorted. "Too many, I would say."
"Nay, you evade the question with such an answer," Legolas scolded.
Sweeney moved away from the wall, folding his hands behind his back. "Hmm, such a question, Prince Legolas. Why do you ask?"
"Evasive yet again. I am curious as to what imperfections you see in us?"
Sweeney stopped, lifting his gaze to the ceiling. Thranduil stepped back to avoid being seen, unwilling to leave the two to their conversation. Sweeney's answers might hold some small bit of information, useful perhaps or not. It didn't matter. It would, however, gain Thranduil more insight into the man, aiding his decision on just what to do with him.
"I am for one glad not to be immortal. How dull to live so long."
Legolas lifted a brow. "Yet you have lived far past most men, by several generations. Have you some regret to that?"
"Some days, perhaps." Sweeney offered a grim smile for a moment. "I had one reason to live, Legolas, and that reason is now protected by another."
"Tsk, do not blame Rowen on misfortune. You agreed to return with my father. Why take on such a role if you did not relish it?"
"Is not a simple reason to be gone from Haldir's control enough?"
Legolas sat up, leaned forward over his knees to look at Sweeney. "Have you such dislike for the March Warden? You left Rowen in his care without any guarantee on just what he would do with her."
Thranduil smiled at this, knowing Haldir's intention would be far more honorable than Rowen might have liked. Sweeney shrugged and turned away from Legolas for a moment with a hand on his temple. "I like the elf, well enough. He is impressive and if anyone has few faults it is he."
"He would not agree," Legolas countered. "But I do not speak to you of your sister or of Haldir. I want to know what happened to my father."
Sweeney grinned for a moment, turning toward Legolas. "It is not my place..."
"So you have said, many times, yet my father is not one to speak either. So I will offer my opinion and see just how well you can keep any response from your face." Legolas stood up and stepped next to Sweeney.
Thranduil leaned over further, as if to hear better, his hair sliding from his shoulder to hang over the edge of the railing.
"Perhaps he and Haldir became better friends than I can imagine."
"They respected each other tolerably," Sweeney replied evenly.
A snort from Legolas. "Haldir was clearly interested in Rowen, my father, not so much, unless it was to annoy Haldir."
Sweeney only smiled in amusement.
Legolas shook his head with a grin. Recovered his seriousness and continued. "Perhaps he considered taking over Lorien and was rebuffed."
"Perhaps, but I have no knowledge of that."
Thranduil almost sniffed but held back, fingers gripped around the railing as he waited.
"Then it can only be that he was out matched by Haldir and his elves, in some faction, probably in a fight with orcs."
Sweeney laughed. "By the Valar, no. He was as skilled as any of Haldir's elves, although Haldir took an arrow meant for your father."
Legolas stared for a long moment and then shuddered. "My worst fear. But he is alive and well, and Haldir?"
"Alive and well."
"Have I evaded the answer yet?"
Sweeney did not reply, nor change expression. Thranduil sighed and stepped away from the railing, but spoke loud enough his voice could be heard to the two below. "If you must know, my son, I met an elleth that I found intriguing. Nothing more, nothing further to delay your journey." He moved regally down the curved stair to the level below, robes trailing behind him three steps, knee-high boots silent on the stone beneath his feet, blue eyes glinting challenge to his son.
Sweeney bowed low and stepped back out of the way.
Legolas met him face to face, one brow lifted in question. "She intrigued you?"
"Indeed, she did." Thranduil moved past Legolas, nose lifted in a signal to put it aside. Legolas, however, did not always obey.
"As in how, Father?"
"How does a female intrigue, Legolas, surely you know that much."
"You were ..." Legolas paused, forced the smile from his lips, but couldn't keep the laughter from his gaze. "You didn't . . . Did you?"
"What I did and why and how are clearly none of your business, nor of Sweeney or Haldir or any other. Now you know, let it be."
"Oh no, not yet," Legolas replied. He stepped into Thranduil's way, arms out to hold Thranduil back. "How does a female catch Thranduil's fancy? You ignore most as if they are non-existent, a rare few go to your bed but I never feel they really catch your interest."
"She didn't treat him like a king," Sweeney coughed behind his hand, eyes narrowed with laughter.
Thranduil turned on his captain in annoyance.
Sweeney held out his arms. "Tell him and he will leave you alone. My advice, for what it's worth."
"Indeed," Legolas echoed. "How did she not treat you like a king?"
"She ordered me around," Thranduil admitted behind gritted teeth, remembering her only too well. "As if I was a servant."
"Of course you told her off. . ." Legolas tilted his head. "But you didn't. You did as she asked."
"Ordered," Thranduil corrected sourly.
"But you are not angry with her," Legolas noted.
Thranduil looked away, a pang suddenly sharp in his breast. "No, I am not angry with her."
"Ada." Legolas laid a gentle hand on Thranduil's arm. "You can love another."
Thranduil snorted and brushed the hand off his sleeve. "I think not."
OoO
Haldir sat on the low bench in front of his cottage, the fletching for his arrows at his side, the slim mallryn cylinder tucked between his feet. He spun the wood slowly, an eye to the length looking for any defect, any minute bend in the shaft that would send the arrow askew even with the best of fletching feathers.
A pair of feet in thin leather slippers appeared in his gaze, the owner's skirt dropping over them a moment later. Haldir sighed inwardly and then looked up with a smile. "Eria, good morning."
"Haldir, I..." The Baker looked at him and blanched, her face pale with only two bright spots of pink on her cheeks to reveal her distress. "I'm sorry, you are busy." She turned away, lifting skirts to hurry away.
"Eria, please stay. I am not so busy I cannot pause for awhile. Speak what is on your mind."
She stopped a few steps away. Curled fingers into the sides of her skirt. "It is a silly thing, March Warden, undeserving of your attention."
"I am no longer March Warden, Eria, I have given that rank to Orophin as you well know. But habits die hard even for those not of the Golden Wood. I am here to help you if you wish it, or to answer questions, or aid you however you need."
She sighed, but still did not turn away. "I do not think you can give me what I need, Haldir."
He smiled and rose, putting aside his arrow. "No? Then you have not come to ask for an escort to Mirkwood?"
Eria turned around with hand to her lips. Eyes wide she stared at Haldir and then let out a great sob. "I don't know what to do, Haldir. Shall I go to him and throw myself at his feet? Or is that a foolish thing? I know he will not come back, not for me."
Haldir stepped forward to grasp her arms, holding her fast. "He was not drawn to a simple maid, but one with fire in her eyes and orders to a king. He would not like to see you at his feet."
She sniffed and then laughed, sobbed both. "I don't know, sometimes I think he might have."
"For moment perhaps, but not truly." Haldir drew her against his chest. "He has taken your heart."
"I tried to ignore it, Haldir. But I cannot think of anything but Thanduil, wicked though he is, I cannot help it. Maybe if I see him as he truly is, as King of Mirkwood, haughty and so horribly snobbish, I might find my heart not so taken."
Haldir looked skyward for a moment as if the clouds drifting over head could offer him answers. Was this how is was with Galadriel? Had she had to offer advice, to decide a person's life in one simple action? He brushed a cheek against Eria's hair and then set her back a step. "I cannot say how he might be, Eria, for you speak of him truly as he is sometimes, to those who are not willing to see further."
"But you know him, do you think I have any chance?"
Haldir looked down at the elleth with a frown. "I know not, Eria, would that I wish I could. Few can really know him that well. . ."
"But maybe Rowen might know, or sense his feelings. Can you not ask her, please?"
"And if she is wrong, meleth?"
Eria wiped her nose, straightened stiffly. "I will take that chance."'
"And if you go to Mirkwood and he rebuffs you, ignores you completely?" Haldir smiled as a hint of Eria's inner fire gleamed in her eyes.
"Maybe I won't let him."
"With that attitude, you might at least get an audience with him." Haldir turned slightly , allowing Rowen to appear beside him. She smiled at him and then reached out to clasp Eria's hands.
"I think you should go. What is there to lose?"
Haldir started to answer, but stopped at the kick to his ankle. Eria smiled at Rowen. They moved away, voices lowered as if he could not hear. "Thranduil might have forgotten me." "Never..." Haldir smiled and picked up his arrow, eyeing the length once more. Thranduil certainly had not forgotten, but would he allow any feelings toward the baker free reign, that was a good question.
