RATING: PG-13

DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)

47.

Days passed and the doors to the council chambers remained closed to Prince Legolas and Princess Elenath. Both thought it bitterly unfair that they were not included in these discussions. Often they heard raised voices; once even weeping from within, but never were they invited.

It was frustrating. Maddening, really. Elenath could barely contain herself for the restlessness that had invaded her heart. If she only knew one way or the other, it would be different. But not knowing was worse than torture. She could not eat. She could not sleep. She was too distracted to report to the practice field, so she simply sat outside the closed doors and said silent prayers. Prayers for guidance and direction. If it came down to it, she still did not know if she could put aside the Sword. After all it was her burden to bear. How could she go against the Sword's decision? Iluvitar's son had told her that the Sword speaks only truth, and Calmakil had chosen her. She could not shirk her duty simply to follow her heart, could she? And would she be able to live with herself if she did?

The Elf-maiden sighed and looked once again at the closed doors, willing them to open, and to her surprise, they did. She scrambled to her feet and looked hopefully into the eyes of her grandfather.

"Come inside," said Elrond, his face a careful mask. "Where is Legolas?"

"He is with the contingent from Mirkwood, on the archery field, I believe." The prince had sat with her almost constantly, but that morning his comrades had convinced him to leave his vigil. Elenath knew that she should have joined them, but she had no desire to humiliate herself on the archery field.

Elenath was welcomed to the Council Chambers by her parents and Gandalf, and she thought it a promising sign when Thranduil's advisors smiled and nodded to her. They had prepared a place for her to sit in their circle.

Legolas was not long in arriving. He was dressed in the green and grey of Mirkwood with his quiver at his back, looking more relaxed than she had seen him in many days. The prince greeted her with a smile and a soft kiss on her forehead. As he sat, he whispered, "More lovely are you than even the crisp blue autumn sky, amaelamin my beloved."

"And you," she answered, "are more handsome than the ancient oak who stretches his golden leaves high into that sky."

He smiled and sat, taking her hand.

Elrond leaned forward in his chair. "Elenath. Legolas. King Thranduil and I have agreed upon a proposal for you to consider."

The king nodded. "Many days have we sat in deliberation. This compromise may seem undesirable to both of you, but please consider wisely before giving your answer."

Elrond continued, "Elenath, you are my granddaughter and I seek only to look out for your best interests. I must see to your safety as well as to your happiness. At first King Thranduil asked that you set aside the Sword and give up your status as a warrior, but I knew at once that this would be a death sentence to you. You cannot tell a person to give up her identity. Not completely."

The princess's eyes strayed to Legolas' father who quickly added, "Please understand, Princess. You have my utmost respect as a warrior. You fight well. I have seen you in practice as well as sparring with you myself. But I seek to continue my line. Mirkwood must have leadership."

Elenath nodded. "Your highness, I assure you, there will be no difficulty in that regard. This union will produce an heir."

"And, we would hope, quickly," added Elrond. "For this is our proposal. You shall set aside the Sword and give up your status as a warrior until an heir is born. In return, Legolas will do the same. Come invasion or call for help, neither of you will ride to battle."

The princess took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. "There have been very few Elven children born of late. It could be thousands of years…. And what of our skills?"

"You will continue to train."

Legolas shook his head. "There is no substitute for true combat. And what kind of a leader will I be to let my warriors ride to battle while I remain safe at home?"

"Our warriors know that you are no coward, Legolas," said Thranduil. "And they would not begrudge you the happiness that they have witnessed, seeing you with Princess Elenath."

"This, Young Ones, is our proposal." Elrond sat back in his chair to wait.

Elenath closed her eyes and placed her hand upon the hilt of Calmakil. As she did so, the weight of her burden became apparent to her. The weapon pulsed in her grip; pulsed in rhythm with her own heart, and she realized that Calmakil was part of her. She could no more cast it aside than detach herself from her own arm. "I cannot shirk my duty as the bearer of Calmakil," she said softly, turning to Legolas. "My life belongs first and foremost to the will of He who commanded this Blade to be forged. To set it aside, even for a time, is not an option. Is there no other way?"

The Council was silent. King Thranduil and his advisors gazed at Elenath with new respect in their eyes, but had no suggestions to make.

Finally, Legolas spoke up. "The will of the Sword is the will of He who created the Elves. Who are we to question His plans? Perhaps if she rode into battle only at the call for the Sword's presence…. I would be at her side at all times, and I would never allow her to fall."

"Nor would I allow you to fall, Legolas," she said.

Thranduil opened his mouth to comment, but his words were never heard. For at that moment, the doors burst open, and a bruised and bloodied messenger from Mirkwood stumbled in. His blond hair was a mass of tangles. Blood covered one side of his tunic, and in his hand he bore a scroll. Collapsing before his king with his hand outstretched, he managed to gasp, "Urgent… must return at once… dire need…" before breathing his last.