Chapter Eleven
"Where are you going?" Thranduil's face denoted he did not really desire an answer, for he meant to keep Legolas right where he stood. His eyes were flashing with rage as he grabbed Legolas by his arm and pulled him into the hallway. With a deafening slam he shut the door and pulled his son face to face with him.
"What have you done to her?" He demanded, then, noticing that Legolas did not seem to understand what he wanted, Thranduil rephrased the question, without the blatant hostility but still with reserved anger.
"News of Yavanna has spread all throughout the kingdom like wildfire. That she has been taken ill can be to no one's fault but yours- everyone knows the only reason an elf becomes ill is because he or she no longer feels any love and desires to die. I ask you expecting an honest answer, did you say anything or do anything to Yavanna that would cause her to feel she did not have your love?" Legolas was still taken aback, his previous intentions of leaving to find Ëmara pressed to the back of his mind as he thought to answer his father.
"Father, do not blame me for Yavanna's misfortune…I would never have brought any harm to her, you know that." Thranduil did not except Legolas' explanation, instead he swallowed heavily and stared into his son's eyes.
"Go into that room and tell her then, tell her that you love her." Legolas' eyes softened as he turned to reenter the bedroom, but he found his feet would not be moved. 'What of your true love? Can you lie to Yavanna…save her life? But at what cost? Would not the pain be worse if she were to discover the truth at the point of recovery?' Thranduil watched Legolas intently as he leaned forward to catch his eyes.
"You see you are caught…and have no illusions that you have been at all discreet in your choice of lovers…anyone who has seen you with her knows of your love for the Lady Ëmara. Your display in the Great Hall opened my eyes to that." He spat out the words as though they were a terrible taste in his mouth. At this Legolas rounded on Thranduil, his own anger mounting by the moment at the mention of Ëmara's name in such a disdainful tone as his father was using.
"I dare not hide it for I know that to be impossible, I only now came to realize it myself…yes, I love her. I love her more with every passing moment…that she is moving farther and farther away I need no one to tell me, for with each mile she passes I feel my heart pulling me towards her. I can not stay here a moment longer, not when I can save her the terrible fate she believes to await her." Thranduil stepped in front of him, to which Legolas tried to work around, only to find himself once again staring into the eyes of his father.
"Save her? Save her? She is evil…nothing can wrench the treachery and deceit that have created her from her blackened heart. She does not desire your love…she does not love you…"
"Ah! And has she told you as much?" Legolas cried out, the thought of unrequited love too terrible to comprehend at his moment of decisive action.
"Do not be a fool! She cannot love! Even those whom she holds the closest to her…Leomë and Dîniath…even they were brought to pain by her own hands! This is a fight you will lose…a struggle that will end only in your own destruction."
"Don't you see?" Legolas' eyes turned a calm blue as they met with Thranduil's, all of his anger at Ëmara's slander forgotten as he spoke perfunctorily, "Don't you see that it does not matter? All I desire…all I love is with her…don't you understand that after love, nothing else matters? I would gladly die at her hand, for then I should die at the hand of one I loved."
"And what of Yavanna you selfish child?! You are beyond pardon in this matter and deserve no less grief than you seek if you chase after Ëmara!" Thranduil could not hide the concern in his eyes, even while his voice thundered with rage. Legolas was still his son and he was still a father who loved his child very much. It grieved him deeply to see his son's mind so twisted by the deceit of Ëmara and to watch him hurt the delicate Yavanna in such a cruel way.
"I see there is no middle ground, I then bid you goodbye Father." The words fell so heavily that Thranduil momentarily crumbled, ready to beg Legolas' forgiveness but the cold resolution in his son's eyes told him that no pleading would be borne. With this, Thranduil rose to his full stature and with calmness laced in pain; he laid his judgment upon Legolas.
"Do not think of returning to this wood if you leave it in pursuit of Lady Ëmara. I never wish to see you again if your mind is to follow Ëmara and leave Yavanna to die. Never has such cruelty so starkly shown itself in the realm of my kingdom…that it comes from you is most grievous. Now I see you no longer as my son…for you have nothing of the compassion of this race. Leave…never return." Now it was Legolas' turn to be remorseful, the severity of the choice he was about to make was heart-wrenching. He wondered for a great while, weighing the two options that lay before him.
On one side stood his father, his kingdom, his crown, and his life, on the other side, a single woman whose very name brought him to his knees. He resolved to see his convictions through and without a word he turned from Thranduil and made his way down the hallway towards the stables, not really certain if his choice had been correct but determined to see it through nonetheless.
Legolas' heart was beating so loudly that his ears could hardly bear the blood pounding against his temples. His eyes remained fixated on the stables ahead as he wondered in his mind all he had just lost.
'What I have lost…what all I have lost…What does any of it matter? A glittering city, a kingdom of power, a crown destined to rest upon my brow…what does any of it matter? Is not the reward of love greater than the measure of all temporal matter? What of my father? I mustn't think of it…I must think only of her for whom I have given everything up.' His brow furrowed in concern as the only thoughts in his mind were of Ëmara's cold stares and contempt- riddled speech. 'Unrequited love? I pray it is not so…when I looked into her eyes I thought I saw the deepest passion, the most boundless love…please let them not be manifestations of a wishful heart!'
Upon entering the stables Legolas found Feânin currying his own horse and quickly called out to him.
"Feânin! Find me Ruinfëa, for I am in need of a horse with the speed of my own, Celebruin. They are of the same brood and he will suit me nicely." Feânin nodded and in a few moments returned with a fiery chestnut colored steed prancing about in an excited manner. As he handed him over to Legolas, Feânin stopped and looked up at his friend.
"Are you leaving Mirkwood when Yavanna is so ill?" The tone of his voice denoted that he knew as well what Legolas' intentions were. With a sigh, Legolas mounted Ruinfëa and looked down at Feânin, a sad smile creeping across his face.
"Yes Feânin. I do not know if we shall ever meet again, my paths are leading me forever away from the borders of my home. Father will not see me again if I leave to find…the Lady Ëmara." Feânin's face did not flinch; apparently Legolas' love for Ëmara had been obvious to all but him for some time now.
"Farewell Legolas." Feânin avoided Legolas' eyes as he walked away, too embarrassed by his friend to speak with him. Legolas could bear the isolation from his kingdom and his father, for they had been with him little throughout his life, only surfacing to point out his shortcomings; it was the severing of Feânin that he found unbearable. Feânin had been his closest friend for many years, ever since they had both been children they had been inseparable. Feânin's cold shoulder left Legolas quite alone in the world, for he had lost his namesake and his friendships all within the span of a day.
For a moment he regarded returning to Yavanna and leading a life that would be far from unhappy, but a life that would be unfulfilled and always full of the question: What if? Thinking this to be a hopeless situation Legolas turned Ruinfëa towards the stable archway and nudged him forward, his heart telling him that no matter which path he chose, his ruin lay at the end of it.