CHAPTER FIVE

A nod, and Legolas trotted willingly enough at my side, out of the stables and around to the open field where I kept Silme. Apparently, horses were the key to this child's heart. Horses and stories, had Mithrandir and I not agreed? Judging by the speed with which Legolas was accompanying me, apparently, we'd been right.

I had been worried for a moment, back in the stable before Naur's stall. I'd seen the light in Legolas's eyes reflected before in grown elves' eyes: the light that said, "This is the horse for me, I will have no other." Grown elves had paid in painful ways for such love at first sight.

I shivered inwardly as I pondered what would happen were Legolas to trip the latch into Naur's stall. The stallion struck with hooves and teeth at everyone who came near -- everyone but Glorfindel. One small elf would have been a small morsel to Naur, quickly and easily killed with a blow to the head or to the fragile little body. But all was well; Legolas had been diverted, the light in his eyes had been only a momentary distraction with Naur easily forgotten. Children shift interests so swiftly, and I'd see to it that he did.

Setting Legolas atop the fence, I entered the field, secured the gate, and whistled for Silme. A white gelding, he'd been my companion for seven years. At my whistle, he bolted out of the trees at the far side of the field. His herd followed -- an impressive collection of mares that were the mainstay of my breeding program. The foundation stallions -- two of them -- were kept on the opposite end of the stable yard. I would not be introducing Legolas to them this morning.

I heard Legolas's swift intake of breath as Silme danced up to us, blowing and snorting. His eye was fierce, but it was all show. This one liked to play more than attack. He'd been an enthusiastic, faithful companion to me all of his days.

Jumping down from the fence, Legolas pressed against my leg and reached up to touch the horse's chest. Backing up a step, Silme blew at the child's hair and peered down at him with what appeared to be astonishment to discover an elf so small. There had been no elflings born within his lifetime, nor within many generations preceding him. This was clearly something quite startling to all the horses.

But Silme's interest was all curiosity and no apprehension. Legolas's small fingers were nibbled, a velvet nose was stroked. And Legolas actually smiled up at me.

"He's good," came the quiet conclusion.

"Do you want to sit on him?"

A shy nod, and Legolas turned toward me. I hesitated, suspecting that I'd been granted permission to lift Legolas onto the horse's back, but wanting to make certain.

Moving slowly, I slipped my hands beneath his arms. When he didn't stiffen or pull away, I picked him up and settled him across the horse's back. Scooting up into position behind Silme's withers, Legolas buried his fingers deep in the white mane and then startled me by bending low to sniff the dusty mane where it cascaded over his fingers. Evidently my elegant fellow had had a fine roll this morning, though what interest this small one had in sniffing dust puzzled me.

I shook the thought aside and grasped my own bit of mane to leap up behind Legolas when Glorfindel called to me from the fence. /Follow me,/ I silently commanded Silme, and he paced obediently behind me to meet Glorfindel. It was a relief, really, to leave the difficult horses to Glorfindel.

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They talked and they talked and they talked. The Big Elves were going to talk forever it seemed and showed no signs of ever stopping. I wanted to RIDE and Silme wanted to carry me. He'd told me so, and he'd already pointed out the best paths. He promised that we could run with the others in the warm sunlight, streak through the trees and over logs and feel the wind in our manes. He knew how to go very fast and I wanted to go very fast. He wanted to carry me and I was up on him, so why were we standing around waiting for Lord Elrond and Glorfindel to finish talking?

Losing patience, I tightened my fingers and my legs. /Go,/ I told Silme, and he went. Seeming to know the advantages of sneaking, he tiptoed away from Lord Elrond before breaking into a trot. Grinning, I told him, /Go faster./

His canter was smooth. As he wove his way through the grazing mares, one joined us, then another, until all of the mares flowed beside us, running in a great herd just as they had when Annun raced with me. I loved riding most of all, because then I could forget that I was just a small elf and could pretend to be one of them. Horses really were much better than elves.

We headed with all speed toward the trees, with Silme's first mare ahead and to the side of us while the others followed. Reaching over, Silme lazily bit her flank. She squealed, but more in amusement than outrage and flashed a kick in his general direction before quickening her pace. Silme stretched out, matching her, and into the trees we went. Finally flying and for the first time since coming to Rivendell, I was free.

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Glorfindel's gaze left me and grew distant, intent upon something behind me. "Lord Elrond...."

I turned in time to see the elfling in my charge boot my horse into a gallop and disappear in the distant grove of trees. "By Elbereth, he'll kill himself!"

"I don't think so. The boy knows what he's doing. And he has excellent taste in a mount, don't you think?"

"But... but... that's MY horse!"

"Yes," Glorfindel said cheerily, "it is. Or was, anyway. Might be again, if you're lucky. Wait a bit and they'll all come round."

Come round, they did. Silme was in the lead now with Legolas stretched out on his neck, half buried in the whipping mane. The child looked so small on that long back, so vulnerable. I held my breath, waiting for Silme to punt him off when the horse kicked playfully at a mare that was venturing too close. How would I tell Mithrandir that I'd managed to see his elfling killed within hours of the wizard's leaving?

"Are you having fun, then?" Glorfindel shouted at Legolas when he passed.

A shriek of laughter answered as horse and child streaked past us, on their way back into the narrow woods where all sorts of traps -- half-fallen trees and wayward branches -- waited to snag the unwary, inexperienced rider. I knew those paths well, had taught Arwen when she was younger how to navigate gnarled and half-decayed old trunks that had been struck by lightning and now lay half-hidden in sand that also hid an assortment of unforgiving rocks. The entire herd thundered into the grove, intent on their fun and turning my blood to ice.

"Legolas, come back," I called as calmly as I could.

"Now there's a sight we've not seen in Imladris since I've been here," Glorfindel commented mildly at my side. "A boy and his horse taking the jumps and a bit of air on a fine, sunlit morning."

I spared a glare for him as the horses once more broke free of the bramble.

"Relax, Elrond," Glorfindel scolded and nodded toward the thundering pack. "The boy rides better than you did at his age, and I ought to know for I was there. Gil-galad had cause to worry over you far more than you have cause to worry over this one. You'd see that too, if you'd care to look."

I looked and saw a small butt planted firmly on a broad back. Legolas's legs were tight and sure, no matter that they barely reached down to Silme's ribs, and Legolas's fingers were securely buried in the silver- white mane flowing over his arms. He rode in balance and with confidence, as if he'd been born to it. Leaning close, he whispered new commands toward a velvet ear, and Silme listened. My own Silme, who sometimes would not listen to me.

The gelding slowed and Legolas locked gazes with me as if to ask, "Do you want us to stop?"

Glorfindel chose that moment to touch my arm and murmur softly, "Legolas is laughing, Elrond. How long has it been since that child had cause for joy?"

Stunned at Glorfindel's assessment and my grudging, if silent, agreement with it, I waved the young one on for another round, but shouted, "Stay out of the trees this time, if you please?"

He pleased and guided Silme past the wood. With all of the obstacles gone, my horse stretched into a gallop. They flew, slender child and powerful horse. Legolas closed his eyes to ride the wind, trusting Silme to carry him safely around and back to us. /Come here,/ I sent to the horse and he obeyed, slowing until he stopped before us, with the rest of the herd thundering past.

I shook my head in wonder as Legolas released Silme's mane, straightened, and grinned down at me. Irritation threatened to overwhelm my wonder when Glorfindel chuckled beside me.

"It's not many who've managed to relieve Lord Elrond of his horse," Glorfindel told the boy. "But I think he'd like him back now. Wouldn't you like a mount of your own, Legolas?"

Legolas shook his head and patted Silme's mane as if to say, 'This one will do nicely.' Oh, no, he would not.

"Silme is mine," I explained with far more patience than I was feeling at the moment, "and while I will share him with you from time to time, I don't want you on him when I am not here. Wouldn't you like a horse of your own to ride, whenever you'd like?"

Legolas considered, and then nodded, albeit reluctantly. Clearly, he was still taken with Silme.

"Very well, then." Reaching up, I snagged the elfling around the waist and returned him to earth. "Let's go and see what's available in another field, hmm?"

Legolas sighed deeply, but marched sturdily between Glorfindel and me into another pasture. I exchanged glances with the golden-haired elf-lord who seemed a sudden nemesis determined to greet my irritation not with murmurs of commiseration, but with yet another grin. That was fine, but it wasn't his horse being stolen nearly out from under him, was it? Not that anyone could steal Naur from him. Not that anyone even remotely sane would want to. In all honesty, I was irritated that Legolas had managed in seconds to ride a horse that had required a month of careful convincing from me before he would agree to carry me.

The field we led Legolas to held many geldings, of both Glorfindel's and my breeding. Briefly, the lord and I discussed possible mounts for Legolas before I sent Glorfindel off to retrieve the horses in question. One by one, they were paraded before the elfling. And to my rapidly growing irritation, one by one, he refused them all.

"This one would make a fine mount for you, yes?"

Legolas again shook his head, the silver-blond hair catching the light as he eyed this new prospective mount with obvious distain.

"What's wrong with this one?" Even Glorfindel was sounding a bit exasperated now. I was glad to note I was not the only one.

Frowning, the elfling gestured toward the animal's hocks and then wrinkled his nose in displeasure.

Hocks. Again it was the hocks. What was this child's obsession with hind leg joints in horses? And why weren't my horses good enough for a small brat who stole horses? I was being generous to share Silme. I was being *very* generous in giving Legolas a mount of his own. And was he grateful? No. He stood there and critiqued my horses as though he were some horsemaster with ages of experience behind him. I expected such things from Glorfindel. It was most annoying to find it in one so short that he didn't meet my waist.

That one's chest was too narrow, that one was too long in the back -- Legolas liked short-coupled horses. That one was cow-hocked, while another's withers were non-existent. That one didn't have enough angulation in the front end and could not extend its stride, much less get its knees up when jumping, and on and on it went.

"Strange that he's pointing out to you the very things I've pointed out to you in the past," murmured Glorfindel after he'd released Legolas's latest rejection. "The boy's got a gift, no doubt of it."

I all but growled in reply -- would have, if not for Legolas who had been watching us both so closely throughout the afternoon. Now I was irritated with Glorfindel as well as my small critic.

"Legolas, you must choose one," I insisted. With great longing, he gazed back toward the field holding Silme. "No, you cannot have my horse," I reiterated, emphatic this time. "There are at least thirty geldings in this field. This field, right here. Will you have any of them for your mount, or should we go forget this altogether and go in for lunch. You don't have to have your own horse. We can forget all about it right now."

There was a satisfying moment in which genuine horror flashed through those blue eyes, then Legolas shook his head quickly and turned back toward the field with new interest. He stood at the fence, brow furrowed in concentration, and considered, as serious as any horseman come from Lothlorien to purchase one of our offerings. I fully expected Legolas to reject them all out of hand and demand that I surrender Silme. Glorfindel and I had discovered a hidden strength of will in this child. Even as it irritated me in this instance, it amused Glorfindel no end. The lord wheezed beside me, trying to hold back his laughter.

"That one," came the final decision, as princely as any who had come out of Mirkwood before.

"You want the bay with the blaze?" Glorfindel ventured. "A fine choice with fine conformation, lad, but can you ride him?"

Glorfindel had offered quite a few horses for Legolas's consideration, but they had been chosen more for their placid temperaments than their conformation. This one was not on the elf lord's most trusty list of mounts and I could see the anxiety in him over what would come next.

"Can," Legolas assured us. "Can ride anything," he declared. I arched an eyebrow at that, at the presumption as well as the confidence.

"Let's just see if you can."

Going into the field, Glorfindel retrieved the horse in question and brought him round to a nearby paddock. Darting through the fence boards, Legolas followed eagerly down the path, trotting more than walking and dancing backward ahead of us half the time so as to watch his new friend as we traveled.

The horse snuzzed the boy, amazed as the other animals had been by this miniature elf, and then he stood quietly, much as Silme had, while Legolas circled him several times. Small hands checked legs and Legolas scowled as he picked at a scab, then poked the bump on the bone underneath it.

"Is he still the one?" Glorfindel asked.

Legolas sighed, peering critically at the animal's chest, then straightened to face us. When he nodded, Glorfindel lifted Legolas without protest into his arms and circled the horse again. "Best have another look from up here."

"So, what do you think?" I asked the imp after the two of them had made several rotations.

"Wait," Legolas ordered, all but frowning at me for my impatience.

I arched an eyebrow at Glorfindel, who grinned to hear the order. Again, Legolas was carried around the horse, and again, and I found myself wondering what might be going on in that silver-blond head of his. Legolas's eye seemed as critical as the elf-lord's who was carrying him.

Glancing over my shoulder on a whim, I saw that my own gelding was standing at the fence and staring intently at the goings-on. And it wasn't me he was watching, but the boy. Giving an inward growl, I returned my focus to the child and his -- HIS -- horse.

"Good," came Legolas's final decree.

"Yes, he is," Glorfindel agreed. "But do you know why he's good?"

"Legs are good," Legolas announced. "Head and back and neck, all good. Chest too narrow, though." He shrugged, then added the qualifier "But deep enough. He's mostly all good."

Glorfindel laughed outright. "That's one way to put it, I suppose. And you're quite right. He has clean legs and his head is noble, his back is not over-long, he's well-coupled and will carry you easily over jumps. Well chosen, little one. Did someone teach you to look for all of those things?"

Legolas shrugged. "Nesséro. Told me a little. Other stuff." He shrugged, disinterested. "Can just see it."

Nesséro, I presumed, was one of the stablemen at Mirkwood. The great irony evident in all of this was that Glorfindel himself would have chosen only this horse from that field. The flaws Legolas had pointed out in the others were the same flaws in my own horses that Glorfindel had been pointing out to me for years. That was a fact I'd no doubt be reminded of when the wine and the song and the conversation was flowing inside my Fire Hall this coming night. Perhaps I would dine alone in my library tonight.

"All right, then. Up you go, and we'll see if you can ride him."

Setting action to words, Glorfindel settled Legolas across the horse's back. Small hands buried themselves in the mane once more, and Legolas leaned forward to give the first command.

"Hold," I said. "You wish no halter? No tack? This horse has not had a rider for some time, and he may not listen to you very well."

The child shook his head in adamant refusal. "Tack gets inna way."

I opened my mouth to object further, but the child had other plans. Kicking the horse into a canter, Legolas began by doing lazy figure eights there on the grass before us. Once more, Glorfindel's easy laughter rang out.

"Don't say anything," I growled.

"No, m'lord. I think I'll save all of my words for the night to come." He choked. "All, save these once more: the boy has a true gift, of that there's no doubt."

Legolas rode until afternoon, and even then I had to pull him off of the horse. I think that he would have slept on that poor gelding's back if I had let him.