Along with a few other vices, Thranduil loved three things: good food,
good drink, and much gambling. The banquet was an interminable effort in
self-discipline and patience for me, sickened as I was by the knowledge
that I now bore, but I put my knowledge and my time to good use.
Thranduil satisfied his gluttony by the end of the banquet that night, and by the beginning of our games of chance he was deep enough into his cups to satisfy his second weakness. As his guest, I joined him willingly in his games of chance, but for some reason fate seemed against my winning that night. I lost three times to every win, and my host found the company of a wizard who was unable to control simple throwing dice to be a matter of great hilarity. I did win a few tosses, but by the end of our games Thranduil had bet and won innumerable times.
The last time, he bet and lost.
What he lost was Legolas. At the end of the night and before witnesses, the king had lost his youngest son to me. He surrendered Legolas willingly, without complaint or regret, much to the astonishment of the witnesses still gathered around the Great Hall.
"What you want with him, I don't know," the drunken king slurred. "He's a little ghost, like his mother. Eyes and silence, that's all you'll ever get out of him. Eyes and silence...."
Thranduil's head sank onto his chest. He begun snoring, and Galion stepped up to remove the dice from his hands and glower at me.
"Do you need help getting him to chambers?" I inquired politely.
"No."
So be it. I watched them attend their slumbering king and gave a gracious nod to excuse myself to all present. I was free to return to my chamber and did so, only to hear small whimpers of fear and distress coming through the darkness behind the door. Hurrying into the room, I discovered that Legolas was caught in the throes of some dark dream. He'd kicked off the covers, was thrashing about in the bed, and could not awaken.
Gathering him to me, I lifted him from sleep. "Hush, little leaf, it's all right. You're safe."
His small body stiffened in my arms. His bony elbow dug into my ribs as he writhed against me. "Nooooooooooooo! Father, nooo!"
The tears came hot and fast, dampening my beard as I cradled him closer to me. "It's just a dream, Legolas. Your father isn't here, he can't hurt you. No one will hurt you again, I promise you that."
~~~
The dream had been so real that it hurt. My father, all darkness and noise, had been bearing down on me while Galion cuffed my ears. It was only when my fingers became entangled in Mithrandir's beard that I finally realized that it wasn't Galion holding me down. The pain I was feeling was only a phantom, pulled from my apprehension but no less real for all of that. Still, though my fear might be and illusion, I know that what had happened before when I was awake would likely happen again.
Something broke inside of me, then. Trapped between my father's rage and the wizard's kindness, I rolled into the prickled roughness of his embrace and hid my face against his beard. Hopelessness mocked the taste of gentleness and caring he'd given me earlier in the day, making my life even more bitter. Still, I clung to him, to the moment's sanctuary he offered against the pain.
His large hands held me close. He smoothed my hair back over and over. And he promised that no one would hurt me again. They were just empty words that night, holding no meaning to me past the warm body I was held against. He wrapped me in his cloak, and I was somewhat aware of him carrying carried me from the bed and settling us both in the chair before the fire.
I was past caring what he did with me. I could only cry then and my tears, once loosed, were beyond my control and would not stop at my bidding. I believed that he was kind and that he would not hurt me, but I also knew that he would leave Mirkwood and I would stay. That knowledge hurt as much as any blow ever had.
He hummed and rocked as he held me. No one had ever done that before -- neither the humming or the rocking. I couldn't remember ever being held like this, either. I didn't want to lift my head away from him because if I did so he might stop rocking, so I kept my face solidly buried in his beard. It made me sneeze and he chuckled, then moved it up and out of the way so that I was sheltered beneath it for a time. He smelled different from any elf, but that wasn't a bad thing. Galion had called him a wizard, and so I knew him for what he smelled like and how gently he touched me, if not for what he could do. I dug my fingers into his robes and wanted to stay where we were forever.
He was warmth and peace, unlike anyone I'd ever met before, and he seemed to care about little elves. He had stood against the mean ones and sent them away; those all-powerful shadows in my life had retreated at his word. But for me, he seemed to have endless time and gentleness.
I didn't want to sleep; I wanted this moment of safety, of being held, to last forever, but I fell asleep to his rocking, somewhat conscious of his snoring. I don't know how long we shared the chair, but my sense of the light woke me at dawn, and by then I was back in his bed. And he was seated in a chair at the table, watching me.
"Good morning, little leaf," he rumbled, leaning over to hand me a mug of milk and a slice of bread once I'd struggled from the layers of bedding he'd wrapped around me. "The sun has barely cleared the horizon, but we have much to discuss this morning. If you are ready?"
I took the food and nodded. My stomach was rumbling and I ate greedily, spreading crumbs across the comforter and trying to catch the honey before it dripped onto the bedclothes. I watched for any signs of outrage at the mess I was making, but Mithrandir didn't seem to notice, much less mind.
"I am leaving Mirkwood today, Legolas, and your father will let you go with me if you wish it."
I stopped chewing and stared at him. He looked calmly back at me, his blue eyes crinkling slightly at the corners.
"Do you want to come with me?"
"W-where?" I breathed.
"To the House of Elrond, in Rivendell. We will go together, and I promise that if you come with me, no one will hurt you again." His eyes were kindly and determined. I sensed that he meant what he said, and that he somehow had the ability to make it so.
Impulsively, with just a little fear, I nodded, then licked at the trickle of honey that had crept unnoticed down my palm just before it made a dive for the sheets.
"You will come with me?"
Would I come with him? My heart knew instantly that I would follow him anywhere. I nodded again, the remains of my bread totally forgotten at the prospect of being allowed to stay with him.
He smiled then, a wide smile that made his beard shift and his eyes twinkle. A huge hand swallowed my knee, and he squeezed slightly. "That is well, little leaf."
~~~
"We'll need a horse if we're to leave this morning," I told Legolas. "Mine is still favoring that tendon, and we don't want to push him. I'd expected to stay a bit longer than overnight and let him rest, but he can either follow behind or I'll collect him later."
I glanced down at my companion of the morning and found him marching stolidly at my side, evidently ignoring the discussion completely.
Discussion. How can you have a discussion when only one party speaks? I sighed, then caught my hand as it drifted toward that tangled hair once more. It was so hard not to touch him, knowing -- no, feeling how desperately he needed affection, but to touch him was likely to upset the delicate balance we'd achieved this morning. By all the Valar, I needed the child's cooperation to depart quickly and quietly from his father's realm.
I stopped on the path then, waiting for my new charge to notice my lack of forward progress. He came to a halt fairly quickly and I stopped down once more to try and meet his gaze, which was buried under the tangled hair.
"We'll need a horse, little leaf. Do you know where they're kept?"
There was a definite spark of interest at that question. My guide nodded vigorously, then pushed irritably at the hair that fell in his face.
"Could you take me there?"
Again the nod, and Legolas backed three cautious steps away from me, watching intently. 'Follow me?' was the unspoken request. I rose to my feet and nodded. Seemingly reassured that I'd not get left behind, he turned and marched down a different, crowded path, leaving me to hike my robes over the foliage and lengthen my stride to catch up.
[He did try to warn me,] I reflected.
This was clearly an unofficial path, as it rapidly devolved into a narrow track worn through the close trees. I was left to stumble over unseen roots and duck low branches, while Legolas hesitated only to pat a tree trunk here and there in his passing, never so much as glancing over his shoulder to see if I was following.
[As though he needs to look back,] I groused to myself. I must make all the noise of an oliphant crashing through these branches.]
The secret path ended abruptly in an open field containing many fine horses as well as a stable. I started to step out onto the grass, to approach the stable, but two small hands grabbed my robe and pulled back on the material, hard.
I stopped instantly, startled. "What is it? What's wrong?"
Legolas shook his head and hovered just at the edge of the treeline and watched intently. The horses in the field turned, one by one, to mark his position in the trees, and no few stepped forward to greet the young elf. Several nickers came in greeting, which seemed to cause a tall Elf to step from the stable and into the sunlight.
"There you are, little shadow," the horsemaster called. "Your friends always give you away."
I watched in surprise as my skittish charge suddenly took flight. Pelting across the grass, Legolas barreled headlong into the legs of the horsemaster, wrapped his arms about the tall elf's thighs in a fierce hug. Laughing, the horsemaster stroked the tangled hair affectionately, but the friendly smile fell away as I stepped up behind Legolas.
"Master Wizard," came the formal greeting. All warmth had fled from those eyes as his gaze fearlessly matched mine. "Word has reached me of last night's activities."
"Has it, now?"
"Word also has it that you will be leaving here, and taking our prince with you."
'Yes," I replied as amiably as I could manage, "Legolas and I will be leaving. And we could use a mount, as mine is still weary from his long service. Is there a horse we might borrow, the prince and I?"
The horsemaster spared me another moment of obvious hostility, then bent down to speak to the child between us, who was looking anxiously from friend to benefactor as the tension escalated.
"Little shadow, your friends await your attention. Why don't you go and speak to them?" The elf gave Legolas a pat on the shoulder and sent him off toward the horses that were drifting toward them across the grass.
Still watching us, the child reluctantly backed away. But another wave from the horsemaster sent him running toward the gathering herd. Once the child's attention was focused away from us, the elf turned back to me with only the barest veneer of civility.
"Yes, I have certainly heard of last night's happenings in the hall. And though it is not my place to question such things, I would like to know what your intentions are toward our prince."
"*Your* prince?" I echoed, hoping that my voice didn't reflect the shock I felt at those words. I could feel my eyebrows climbing in surprise before I could stop them.
"Yes, Master Wizard. Our prince. There are those of us who care for him and do what we can for him," he advised almost defiantly. "We feel it is not right to hand him off to a stranger in such a fashion. And you not even an elf?"
The horsemaster glared at me with both his tone and his stance reflecting reflected aggressiveness -- no, protectiveness, I decided. [This is a good sign,] I decided. [Perhaps the little leaf's life has not been all misery.]
"What are your intentions toward our prince?" the elf demanded. "What do you intend to do with him?"
"I am to tell you, lest your pitchfork find my liver, Master Elf?" I smiled to take the sting out of his words, hoping to move the conversation to less hostile ground. "Your concern reflects well upon you. You have a caring heart."
My words seemed to have little impact as the horsemaster continued to glare. I sighed and took a moment to think carefully before speaking my next words.
"Let me assure you that I have only the young one's best intentions at heart. I intend to take him from this hall of madness and pain. I intend to take him to Imladris where he may be raised in a place of compassion and caring, where he can be free of fear and violence. Where they will care for his needs and his education. And if I know Lord Elrond, he will be delighted to have another young one in his care, as his boys are far too old to appreciate the company of their father any longer."
The stablemaster blinked, clearly startled by my words, and the quiet strength beneath them. "You -- you know, then?"
"I know. I witnessed… episodes yesterday. I have also seen further evidence of what's been happening." Nodding toward Legolas, I my fingers tightly about my own wrist in mute illustration. "I managed to head off at least part of last night's violence toward him, but I cannot remain here, and I will not leave him here another night."
If an elf could be said to sag in relief, this one did. "Then you understand, and you act out of caring. Many will be glad to hear of his change in fate, but they were uncertain of you, Master Wizard. We meant no offence…."
"But you wondered what strange bargain had been struck with the selling of the princeling, and what strange desires an old wizard might harbor," I replied, half- offended and half-amused. "Again, your caring tells much of you. But should any need the assurance of my promise, I give my solemn word that I will watch after this one as though he were my own. His father gave him to me last night. Gave. Him. To. Me. To keep as my own until the end of days. I intend to hold Thranduil to that, no less than I intend to honor it. I accept my guardianship very seriously indeed."
"Then he will fare far better than he would here."
Our gazes met in solemn understanding before the horsemaster turned toward the field.
"Ah, he returns," he observed as my little elf trudged back across the grass toward us with several young horses trailing along behind him.
The horsemaster beckoned Legolas forward and the entire group straggled into a trot, with the small boy running ahead of carefully paced horses at his heels.
Legolas drew to a halt between us. The horses, filled with yearling mischief and curiosity, ranged alongside him to snuffle me – rather rudely, I thought. My hat was nipped and knocked forward over my eyes before it was snatched completely off of my head. A filly snorted into my beard while a third tugged at the hem of my robe.
"Here! Here now, give me that," I protested, definitely at a disadvantage as I tugging the hat from between equine teeth only to flap it at another animal fascinated by my beard. "Be off! Leave me be!"
The young horses snorted, more amused than alarmed it seemed, and wheeled to canter off back to their fellows at grass. To my astonishment, I heard a soft sound that was very distinctly a giggle coming from behind me.
"Oh-ho, so you think that was funny?"
Legolas's amusement collapsed instantly, and he shrank behind the legs of the horsemaster. I sighed, saddened that the moment had been lost so quickly.
"Look what your friend did to my hat," I protested, putting a very undignified, petulant, un-wizardlike whine into my tone. Kneeling, I brandished the hat not too close to the child, then carefully pointed out the large arc of dents in its fabric.
Legolas hesitantly reached out to take the huge hat in his hands. First, he brushed at the dents, then scraped at them with a dirty fingernail until the impressions vanished. My hat was then returned to me with all solemnity. I inspected it very carefully, then nodded.
"Well, that's not so bad then," I allowed before restoring the hat to its rightful place. "Warn me if they're coming back, will you?"
Again the solemn nod.
"Now, Legolas, your friend and I were discussing a suitable mount for our journey. Tell me, little leaf, can you ride?"
His eyes widened in surprise, but then the gaze was fized on the grass between the little elf's feet, and a very firm headshake in the negative was his reply. Looking up to the horsemaster for confirmation, I was not surprised to find him smiling and nodding in the affirmative just as emphatically.
"Little leaf, it's quite acceptable for you tell me the truth when I ask you a question," I said gently. "I ask because I wish to know the answer, and I promise that I won't be angry with you over what you tell me. I will only be unhappy with you," I added, stressing the word, "if you tell me that you've done something which I have specifically told you not to do. Do you understand?"
Legolas's answer was a noncommittal shrug of his narrow shoulders.
"I'll take that as a yes. So tell me again: can you ride a horse well enough to stay on top of it?"
A sidelong glance, watching, appraising…Then a deep breath as courage was gathered…and the faintest of nods.
"Good. I was hoping you could. That will make things all the easier. Now, which of these horses do you think might suit us for our journey? And which one might we be allowed to borrow?"
"Might I suggest your old friend, little shadow?" said the horsemaster.
Legolas spun, tangled hair flying, to face the elf. Hope was shining from those eyes now, the first hope I'd seen in them.
"She's an older mare," the elf advised me. "She is ignored, though still strong. She produces the finest of foals, but she will never be missed. She is a good mother who can be counted on to protect her foals." He nodded significantly toward Legolas. "All of them."
"She sounds like a fine choice, then. But can she carry the both of us to Imladris if she carries so many years?"
Legolas nodded, and the Horsemaster smiled. "She can. She is not so old as all that, though I don't think she'll see many more winters. She will get you there safely if you don't overtax her."
"A good choice all around, then."
"Why don't you go and tell her, Legolas?"
The prince darted off into the horses, finding a dark mare at the back of the assembled horses. She was an odd color, dark red-brown with gold in her mane and the white scattering of age hairs about her eyes and muzzle. Her belly carried the sag of many foals' residence within, but her neck arched proudly and she carried herself with grace as she minced across the grass toward us. Carefully, she shortened her stride to match that of the child who led her with a hand to her shoulder.
"She belonged to the Prince's mother, Master Wizard, a final gift from both her mother and myself. She also carries one further gift for the prince."
"A foal?"
He nodded and smiled, "Though he knows it not. The foal should be a fine one, a further legacy from Mirkwood, so use her gently if you can."
"Ah, this is the one?" I asked as Legolas brought the horse to a halt before me.
The mare and I regarded each other for a long moment before I reached out to stroke a misplaced strand of mane back over her neck. She sniffed my beard suspiciously, then snorted. We were both wary of each other, but once our eyes had met and our hearts had been read, intentions were deciphered, and agreements were reached. She would carry me as the young one asked. Of her carrying him, I had no doubt.
"She agrees then? When will you be leaving Mirkwood?"
"As swiftly as we may," I replied. "As soon as I collect our things, if she can travel on such short notice."
"She will be ready for you upon your return, Master Wizard. And may the stars shine brightly upon your path to Rivendell."
Thranduil satisfied his gluttony by the end of the banquet that night, and by the beginning of our games of chance he was deep enough into his cups to satisfy his second weakness. As his guest, I joined him willingly in his games of chance, but for some reason fate seemed against my winning that night. I lost three times to every win, and my host found the company of a wizard who was unable to control simple throwing dice to be a matter of great hilarity. I did win a few tosses, but by the end of our games Thranduil had bet and won innumerable times.
The last time, he bet and lost.
What he lost was Legolas. At the end of the night and before witnesses, the king had lost his youngest son to me. He surrendered Legolas willingly, without complaint or regret, much to the astonishment of the witnesses still gathered around the Great Hall.
"What you want with him, I don't know," the drunken king slurred. "He's a little ghost, like his mother. Eyes and silence, that's all you'll ever get out of him. Eyes and silence...."
Thranduil's head sank onto his chest. He begun snoring, and Galion stepped up to remove the dice from his hands and glower at me.
"Do you need help getting him to chambers?" I inquired politely.
"No."
So be it. I watched them attend their slumbering king and gave a gracious nod to excuse myself to all present. I was free to return to my chamber and did so, only to hear small whimpers of fear and distress coming through the darkness behind the door. Hurrying into the room, I discovered that Legolas was caught in the throes of some dark dream. He'd kicked off the covers, was thrashing about in the bed, and could not awaken.
Gathering him to me, I lifted him from sleep. "Hush, little leaf, it's all right. You're safe."
His small body stiffened in my arms. His bony elbow dug into my ribs as he writhed against me. "Nooooooooooooo! Father, nooo!"
The tears came hot and fast, dampening my beard as I cradled him closer to me. "It's just a dream, Legolas. Your father isn't here, he can't hurt you. No one will hurt you again, I promise you that."
~~~
The dream had been so real that it hurt. My father, all darkness and noise, had been bearing down on me while Galion cuffed my ears. It was only when my fingers became entangled in Mithrandir's beard that I finally realized that it wasn't Galion holding me down. The pain I was feeling was only a phantom, pulled from my apprehension but no less real for all of that. Still, though my fear might be and illusion, I know that what had happened before when I was awake would likely happen again.
Something broke inside of me, then. Trapped between my father's rage and the wizard's kindness, I rolled into the prickled roughness of his embrace and hid my face against his beard. Hopelessness mocked the taste of gentleness and caring he'd given me earlier in the day, making my life even more bitter. Still, I clung to him, to the moment's sanctuary he offered against the pain.
His large hands held me close. He smoothed my hair back over and over. And he promised that no one would hurt me again. They were just empty words that night, holding no meaning to me past the warm body I was held against. He wrapped me in his cloak, and I was somewhat aware of him carrying carried me from the bed and settling us both in the chair before the fire.
I was past caring what he did with me. I could only cry then and my tears, once loosed, were beyond my control and would not stop at my bidding. I believed that he was kind and that he would not hurt me, but I also knew that he would leave Mirkwood and I would stay. That knowledge hurt as much as any blow ever had.
He hummed and rocked as he held me. No one had ever done that before -- neither the humming or the rocking. I couldn't remember ever being held like this, either. I didn't want to lift my head away from him because if I did so he might stop rocking, so I kept my face solidly buried in his beard. It made me sneeze and he chuckled, then moved it up and out of the way so that I was sheltered beneath it for a time. He smelled different from any elf, but that wasn't a bad thing. Galion had called him a wizard, and so I knew him for what he smelled like and how gently he touched me, if not for what he could do. I dug my fingers into his robes and wanted to stay where we were forever.
He was warmth and peace, unlike anyone I'd ever met before, and he seemed to care about little elves. He had stood against the mean ones and sent them away; those all-powerful shadows in my life had retreated at his word. But for me, he seemed to have endless time and gentleness.
I didn't want to sleep; I wanted this moment of safety, of being held, to last forever, but I fell asleep to his rocking, somewhat conscious of his snoring. I don't know how long we shared the chair, but my sense of the light woke me at dawn, and by then I was back in his bed. And he was seated in a chair at the table, watching me.
"Good morning, little leaf," he rumbled, leaning over to hand me a mug of milk and a slice of bread once I'd struggled from the layers of bedding he'd wrapped around me. "The sun has barely cleared the horizon, but we have much to discuss this morning. If you are ready?"
I took the food and nodded. My stomach was rumbling and I ate greedily, spreading crumbs across the comforter and trying to catch the honey before it dripped onto the bedclothes. I watched for any signs of outrage at the mess I was making, but Mithrandir didn't seem to notice, much less mind.
"I am leaving Mirkwood today, Legolas, and your father will let you go with me if you wish it."
I stopped chewing and stared at him. He looked calmly back at me, his blue eyes crinkling slightly at the corners.
"Do you want to come with me?"
"W-where?" I breathed.
"To the House of Elrond, in Rivendell. We will go together, and I promise that if you come with me, no one will hurt you again." His eyes were kindly and determined. I sensed that he meant what he said, and that he somehow had the ability to make it so.
Impulsively, with just a little fear, I nodded, then licked at the trickle of honey that had crept unnoticed down my palm just before it made a dive for the sheets.
"You will come with me?"
Would I come with him? My heart knew instantly that I would follow him anywhere. I nodded again, the remains of my bread totally forgotten at the prospect of being allowed to stay with him.
He smiled then, a wide smile that made his beard shift and his eyes twinkle. A huge hand swallowed my knee, and he squeezed slightly. "That is well, little leaf."
~~~
"We'll need a horse if we're to leave this morning," I told Legolas. "Mine is still favoring that tendon, and we don't want to push him. I'd expected to stay a bit longer than overnight and let him rest, but he can either follow behind or I'll collect him later."
I glanced down at my companion of the morning and found him marching stolidly at my side, evidently ignoring the discussion completely.
Discussion. How can you have a discussion when only one party speaks? I sighed, then caught my hand as it drifted toward that tangled hair once more. It was so hard not to touch him, knowing -- no, feeling how desperately he needed affection, but to touch him was likely to upset the delicate balance we'd achieved this morning. By all the Valar, I needed the child's cooperation to depart quickly and quietly from his father's realm.
I stopped on the path then, waiting for my new charge to notice my lack of forward progress. He came to a halt fairly quickly and I stopped down once more to try and meet his gaze, which was buried under the tangled hair.
"We'll need a horse, little leaf. Do you know where they're kept?"
There was a definite spark of interest at that question. My guide nodded vigorously, then pushed irritably at the hair that fell in his face.
"Could you take me there?"
Again the nod, and Legolas backed three cautious steps away from me, watching intently. 'Follow me?' was the unspoken request. I rose to my feet and nodded. Seemingly reassured that I'd not get left behind, he turned and marched down a different, crowded path, leaving me to hike my robes over the foliage and lengthen my stride to catch up.
[He did try to warn me,] I reflected.
This was clearly an unofficial path, as it rapidly devolved into a narrow track worn through the close trees. I was left to stumble over unseen roots and duck low branches, while Legolas hesitated only to pat a tree trunk here and there in his passing, never so much as glancing over his shoulder to see if I was following.
[As though he needs to look back,] I groused to myself. I must make all the noise of an oliphant crashing through these branches.]
The secret path ended abruptly in an open field containing many fine horses as well as a stable. I started to step out onto the grass, to approach the stable, but two small hands grabbed my robe and pulled back on the material, hard.
I stopped instantly, startled. "What is it? What's wrong?"
Legolas shook his head and hovered just at the edge of the treeline and watched intently. The horses in the field turned, one by one, to mark his position in the trees, and no few stepped forward to greet the young elf. Several nickers came in greeting, which seemed to cause a tall Elf to step from the stable and into the sunlight.
"There you are, little shadow," the horsemaster called. "Your friends always give you away."
I watched in surprise as my skittish charge suddenly took flight. Pelting across the grass, Legolas barreled headlong into the legs of the horsemaster, wrapped his arms about the tall elf's thighs in a fierce hug. Laughing, the horsemaster stroked the tangled hair affectionately, but the friendly smile fell away as I stepped up behind Legolas.
"Master Wizard," came the formal greeting. All warmth had fled from those eyes as his gaze fearlessly matched mine. "Word has reached me of last night's activities."
"Has it, now?"
"Word also has it that you will be leaving here, and taking our prince with you."
'Yes," I replied as amiably as I could manage, "Legolas and I will be leaving. And we could use a mount, as mine is still weary from his long service. Is there a horse we might borrow, the prince and I?"
The horsemaster spared me another moment of obvious hostility, then bent down to speak to the child between us, who was looking anxiously from friend to benefactor as the tension escalated.
"Little shadow, your friends await your attention. Why don't you go and speak to them?" The elf gave Legolas a pat on the shoulder and sent him off toward the horses that were drifting toward them across the grass.
Still watching us, the child reluctantly backed away. But another wave from the horsemaster sent him running toward the gathering herd. Once the child's attention was focused away from us, the elf turned back to me with only the barest veneer of civility.
"Yes, I have certainly heard of last night's happenings in the hall. And though it is not my place to question such things, I would like to know what your intentions are toward our prince."
"*Your* prince?" I echoed, hoping that my voice didn't reflect the shock I felt at those words. I could feel my eyebrows climbing in surprise before I could stop them.
"Yes, Master Wizard. Our prince. There are those of us who care for him and do what we can for him," he advised almost defiantly. "We feel it is not right to hand him off to a stranger in such a fashion. And you not even an elf?"
The horsemaster glared at me with both his tone and his stance reflecting reflected aggressiveness -- no, protectiveness, I decided. [This is a good sign,] I decided. [Perhaps the little leaf's life has not been all misery.]
"What are your intentions toward our prince?" the elf demanded. "What do you intend to do with him?"
"I am to tell you, lest your pitchfork find my liver, Master Elf?" I smiled to take the sting out of his words, hoping to move the conversation to less hostile ground. "Your concern reflects well upon you. You have a caring heart."
My words seemed to have little impact as the horsemaster continued to glare. I sighed and took a moment to think carefully before speaking my next words.
"Let me assure you that I have only the young one's best intentions at heart. I intend to take him from this hall of madness and pain. I intend to take him to Imladris where he may be raised in a place of compassion and caring, where he can be free of fear and violence. Where they will care for his needs and his education. And if I know Lord Elrond, he will be delighted to have another young one in his care, as his boys are far too old to appreciate the company of their father any longer."
The stablemaster blinked, clearly startled by my words, and the quiet strength beneath them. "You -- you know, then?"
"I know. I witnessed… episodes yesterday. I have also seen further evidence of what's been happening." Nodding toward Legolas, I my fingers tightly about my own wrist in mute illustration. "I managed to head off at least part of last night's violence toward him, but I cannot remain here, and I will not leave him here another night."
If an elf could be said to sag in relief, this one did. "Then you understand, and you act out of caring. Many will be glad to hear of his change in fate, but they were uncertain of you, Master Wizard. We meant no offence…."
"But you wondered what strange bargain had been struck with the selling of the princeling, and what strange desires an old wizard might harbor," I replied, half- offended and half-amused. "Again, your caring tells much of you. But should any need the assurance of my promise, I give my solemn word that I will watch after this one as though he were my own. His father gave him to me last night. Gave. Him. To. Me. To keep as my own until the end of days. I intend to hold Thranduil to that, no less than I intend to honor it. I accept my guardianship very seriously indeed."
"Then he will fare far better than he would here."
Our gazes met in solemn understanding before the horsemaster turned toward the field.
"Ah, he returns," he observed as my little elf trudged back across the grass toward us with several young horses trailing along behind him.
The horsemaster beckoned Legolas forward and the entire group straggled into a trot, with the small boy running ahead of carefully paced horses at his heels.
Legolas drew to a halt between us. The horses, filled with yearling mischief and curiosity, ranged alongside him to snuffle me – rather rudely, I thought. My hat was nipped and knocked forward over my eyes before it was snatched completely off of my head. A filly snorted into my beard while a third tugged at the hem of my robe.
"Here! Here now, give me that," I protested, definitely at a disadvantage as I tugging the hat from between equine teeth only to flap it at another animal fascinated by my beard. "Be off! Leave me be!"
The young horses snorted, more amused than alarmed it seemed, and wheeled to canter off back to their fellows at grass. To my astonishment, I heard a soft sound that was very distinctly a giggle coming from behind me.
"Oh-ho, so you think that was funny?"
Legolas's amusement collapsed instantly, and he shrank behind the legs of the horsemaster. I sighed, saddened that the moment had been lost so quickly.
"Look what your friend did to my hat," I protested, putting a very undignified, petulant, un-wizardlike whine into my tone. Kneeling, I brandished the hat not too close to the child, then carefully pointed out the large arc of dents in its fabric.
Legolas hesitantly reached out to take the huge hat in his hands. First, he brushed at the dents, then scraped at them with a dirty fingernail until the impressions vanished. My hat was then returned to me with all solemnity. I inspected it very carefully, then nodded.
"Well, that's not so bad then," I allowed before restoring the hat to its rightful place. "Warn me if they're coming back, will you?"
Again the solemn nod.
"Now, Legolas, your friend and I were discussing a suitable mount for our journey. Tell me, little leaf, can you ride?"
His eyes widened in surprise, but then the gaze was fized on the grass between the little elf's feet, and a very firm headshake in the negative was his reply. Looking up to the horsemaster for confirmation, I was not surprised to find him smiling and nodding in the affirmative just as emphatically.
"Little leaf, it's quite acceptable for you tell me the truth when I ask you a question," I said gently. "I ask because I wish to know the answer, and I promise that I won't be angry with you over what you tell me. I will only be unhappy with you," I added, stressing the word, "if you tell me that you've done something which I have specifically told you not to do. Do you understand?"
Legolas's answer was a noncommittal shrug of his narrow shoulders.
"I'll take that as a yes. So tell me again: can you ride a horse well enough to stay on top of it?"
A sidelong glance, watching, appraising…Then a deep breath as courage was gathered…and the faintest of nods.
"Good. I was hoping you could. That will make things all the easier. Now, which of these horses do you think might suit us for our journey? And which one might we be allowed to borrow?"
"Might I suggest your old friend, little shadow?" said the horsemaster.
Legolas spun, tangled hair flying, to face the elf. Hope was shining from those eyes now, the first hope I'd seen in them.
"She's an older mare," the elf advised me. "She is ignored, though still strong. She produces the finest of foals, but she will never be missed. She is a good mother who can be counted on to protect her foals." He nodded significantly toward Legolas. "All of them."
"She sounds like a fine choice, then. But can she carry the both of us to Imladris if she carries so many years?"
Legolas nodded, and the Horsemaster smiled. "She can. She is not so old as all that, though I don't think she'll see many more winters. She will get you there safely if you don't overtax her."
"A good choice all around, then."
"Why don't you go and tell her, Legolas?"
The prince darted off into the horses, finding a dark mare at the back of the assembled horses. She was an odd color, dark red-brown with gold in her mane and the white scattering of age hairs about her eyes and muzzle. Her belly carried the sag of many foals' residence within, but her neck arched proudly and she carried herself with grace as she minced across the grass toward us. Carefully, she shortened her stride to match that of the child who led her with a hand to her shoulder.
"She belonged to the Prince's mother, Master Wizard, a final gift from both her mother and myself. She also carries one further gift for the prince."
"A foal?"
He nodded and smiled, "Though he knows it not. The foal should be a fine one, a further legacy from Mirkwood, so use her gently if you can."
"Ah, this is the one?" I asked as Legolas brought the horse to a halt before me.
The mare and I regarded each other for a long moment before I reached out to stroke a misplaced strand of mane back over her neck. She sniffed my beard suspiciously, then snorted. We were both wary of each other, but once our eyes had met and our hearts had been read, intentions were deciphered, and agreements were reached. She would carry me as the young one asked. Of her carrying him, I had no doubt.
"She agrees then? When will you be leaving Mirkwood?"
"As swiftly as we may," I replied. "As soon as I collect our things, if she can travel on such short notice."
"She will be ready for you upon your return, Master Wizard. And may the stars shine brightly upon your path to Rivendell."