Part Six: Namárië
"Legolas!" came Lord Elrond's urgent voice at the door, a few days later. "Youngling, open up. I need to speak to you quickly."
The two lovers exchanged worried looks. Legolas pulled his tunic off the foot board and handed it to her. "Put it on, quickly."
He hopped off the bed and opened the door admitting the elf lord.
"What is it?" he asked seeing the worry etched on Elrond's face.
"Your father-" he began
"What?!" the prince yelped, horrified, "Here?!"
"Yes child. Down in the Great Hall pacing while I came looking for you."
"No." he cast pain filled eyes at the bed as Ithilin emerged wearing his tunic. "Lord Elrond, the bond hasn't settled yet. He could take me away from her."
Ithilin's quiet presence beside him made him look in her eyes. "Nothing and no one can take you from me." She said fiercely, her elven light flaring, "I will die before I would let that happen."
"I know you would, a'maelamin."
"Legolas, trust your father's love for you. Trust that he would not see you hurt." Elrond said laying his hand on the younger elf's shoulder. "Now both of you get dressed and come to the Great Hall."
Fear swirled in the prince's silvery eyes until Ithilin took his hand and laid it over her heart. "If nothing else," she said quietly, "trust us."
Legolas nodded and sighed. Walking to the wardrobe, he removed several articles of clothing meant for ceremony. A white silk tunic embroidered with gold and green leaves, a pair of emerald green velvet breeches and an emerald green doublet also embroidered with leaves he laid over the foot board. He took up the tunic and shrugged it on as Ithilin disappeared behind the door heading for her chambers.
He donned his clothing like a kind of armor. The better he looked the more confident he felt. He wanted to leave his hair unbound but it kept falling in his face, so he took up a leather lace and pulled it back in a loose tail down his back. Lastly, he buckled on his quiver and knives and tied the laces on his arm guards.
Ithilin met him at the door. His breath caught in his throat. Her dark blue velvet bodice had silver crescents embroidered all over the fabric, laced with a silver ribbon. Her gossamer white high collared under tunic was open to the low neck of her bodice. Silver threads chased down the length of her dark blue velvet skirt. At her slender waist hung a curved elven sword. Around her graceful neck hung a small tear shaped stone set in mithril. A silver crescent rested upon her brow. She looked like captured moonlight in a dark sapphire sky.
"Your father awaits, my lord." She said taking his arm.
"You are an impressive sight." He whispered finally, getting his mind to work again.
"You expected less?" She shook her head at him and reached up to slipped the lace out of his hair. "What is this? You are new bound and are tying your hair back."
Legolas smiled at her gentle scolding, kissing her tenderly, "It was getting in my face, love. Forgive a moments vanity."
"You *are* a peacock," she chuckled as the descended the stair and entered the Great Hall.
* * *
The elf king and Lord Elrond looked up as they entered. Elrond noted that, though they did not touch each other, they stood as close as they could without doing so; Ithilin a half step behind the prince.
"Legolas," Thranduil embraced the young elf. "Have you been enjoying your summer?"
"Aye, Adar."
"Lord Elrond tells me that you have been instructing his young ward in archery."
"Aye. She is a very able pupil and quick to learn." The prince said favorably, glancing back at his companion. "I had thought, with Lord Elrond's approval of course, to begin sword work in the next week or so."
"I'm afraid that will have to be postponed for the time being, my son."
"Why?" Legolas knew perfectly well that his father's appearance here meant that the marriage preparations had been completed.
"Legolas, I want you to meet your bride. This is Lady Yavisul."
A tall she-elf emerged from behind the king. Hair the color of ripe wheat hung in loose ringlets down her back. Wintry blue eyes gazed with cool interest at the young prince. She wore a earthy brown kirtle, girded at her slim waist by a slender gold belt.
"My Lord Prince." She said with a slight smile. Stepping forward, she offered her hand for the prince to kiss.
"My lady," he replied coolly, bending over the proffered hand, his lips lightly brushing her skin. Then he caught his father's gaze. "I need to speak with you."
"Adar," he said drawing his father aside, "I can not marry her."
"I am not giving you a choice, Legolas. I know you dislike this, but I will not have you dishonor your royal lineage by remaining a bachelor."
"Is that all I am to you?" Hurt evident in his voice. "Some whore you can sell to carry on the royal line of Mirkwood?"
"You know I love you."
"Not now I don't. I will not be used this way, father." Legolas' eyes flashed angrily, "You may have been able to goad my brothers into this, but-"
"You will *not* take that tone with me, youngling. You *will* do as you are told whether you like the situation or not."
"NO!"
"I will not tolerate this kind of behavior from you." Thranduil caught his son by the arm in a crushing grip, as though the prince was an unruly elfling. Legolas winced as his father's hand clamped down tightly on his bicep and tried to pull away.
" *I* *am* *not* *a* *child* *anymore*, *father*" he hissed.
"And I am still your father." Thranduil said, his voice low and dangerous. "You will do your duty, my young son. It is your choice. You can be forced or you can do it willingly."
Legolas squared his shoulders, his head held high and gaze cold. "I can not marry, father."
"I am not above binding you and dragging you back to Mirkwood behind my horse, Legolas."
"I can not marry because I am bound to another, Father!" He cried, wrenching his arm out of his father's grasp.
A loud crack echoed through the hall as Thranduil's hand came in to contact with Legolas' cheek sending the reeling younger elf to the floor. The elf king's eyes blazed with barely controlled rage as he drew his sword and pinned his son to the polished wood. "You are a royal, Legolas Greenleaf. I will not have common blood tainting my line. Who is this whore who dares to sully your name?"
"She is no whore, Adar. It is Ithilin." Legolas' voice was barely above a whisper. "Lord Elrond's ward."
"Get up!" he said tapping his son's chin with the point of the blade. "Go bind your hair and make ready to leave. I am taking you home. NOW!"
Legolas got slowly to his feet, anger blazing in his sapphire eyes. He knew Lord Elrond could not help him. He had never felt so helpless in his life. As he stalked out of the Great Hall, he felt Ithilin's arm link through his.
* * *
"I love you." She whispered in a tight voice as he closed and locked the door to his chambers.
"I have never doubted that, a'maelamin." He sighed, turning toward her. "I know that there was nothing anyone could have done, least of all you. He is going to force me to wed Lady Yavisul even if he has to bind and gag me to do it. There is no way out."
Ithilin nodded, staring defeatedly at the carpet.
"Ithilin, I love you and need you. Nothing can change that." He said sadly, "But I also need you to understand that herbs can be given to make me lie with her against my will."
"That may be beyond our control, but I can make our bond permanent." She said defiantly staring into his eyes.
"How?"
"By blood." She said simply. "Blood binds more fully and more permanently than mere words. It is old magic from the time our ancestors first awoke on the shores of Nen Echui." Ithilin unsheathed her blade and laid it across the palm of her hand. "Say the word and I will do it."
"Wasn't your Maiden's Blood enough?" he asked pulling the sword away from her hand. "Ithilin, you are in my heart and soul. I am bound only to you. You are my wife."
All of a sudden, her eyes went wide and she rushed into the bath chamber. Legolas chuckled softly as heard her retching into the basin. He went in and knelt beside her, gently pulling her long hair away from her flushed face.
"And the child you carry is my heir." He whispered with a smile, tenderly kissing her ear.
Dark sapphire eyes peered at him over her arm with a mixture of fear and joy.
"This is the Old Magic, a'maelamin." He pressed his hand to her belly. "This is our bond and our hope. I will never regret the choice I made because I made it within the bonds of love. And this is the product of that love."
"I'm frightened."
Legolas rubbed her back, smiling as he kissed her shoulder. "I am too. I wish I could be here for our babe's birth. Our forced separation is going to be hard on both of us, but I think it will be hardest on you. And I worry more for you, than anything."
"What of Estel?" She gasped over another heave.
"Here, this should help." He said laying a cool cloth on her neck, "Tell him, don't tell him, that's up to you. It doesn't matter now. Better?"
She nodded shakily as he handed her a small mug with water in it.
"Drink slowly."
Suddenly someone pounded on the door.
"LEGOLAS!"
The prince ignored the insistent pounding. "The door is locked, love. I will not leave until I know you're all right."
Ithilin still looked ashen and he feared she might pass out. A mixture of fear and defiance lit her luminous blue eyes.
"Can you stand?"
"I think so. Why?"
"You'll see." He helped her up and led her back into the bed chamber.
"LEGOLAS! Open this door!" the king bellowed, his fist connecting with the solid wood of the door again.
Ithilin clung, trembling, to the bed post as her mate stripped off his ceremonial garments. The leaf embroidered white tunic, he tossed over the foot board along with the jerkin and leggings. Ithilin grabbed up the silk shirt, pressing the soft fabric to her nose.
Legolas smiled, his long slender fingers brushing her cheek. "Keep it, a'maelamin. For our elfling."
After donning his normal silver tunic and dark blue-gray leggings, he threw back the bolt and stood protectively in front of the little she-elf.
"You will not harm her." He said warningly as his father burst through the heavy oaken door.
The prince then turned to Ithilin and knelt down before her. Taking her small hands in his own, he pressed them to his lips. Then he moved his hands to her hips and gently pulled her to him, planting a tender kiss on her belly. "You are my hope, hên-nîn. Grow strong so you can take care of you mother for me."
As he stood he took her in his arms, holding her to his chest, as her small body was wracked by heartbroken sobs. Then he lifted her head and drew her into a gentle but passionate kiss, his lips touching every inch of her face as though learning her by heart. "To thee do I bind my heart and soul. To thee will I remain true. Thou art my life, for without thee I am nothing. You are my chosen mate, Ithilin. I belong only to you."
"Are you packed?" the elf king demanded coldly.
"Yes, Adar." Legolas lifted Ithilin up and placed her on the bed. "Lord Elrond will look after you, a'maelamin. Be strong." He bent down and kissed her, his lips lingering against hers. "Know that my love for you will never fade. Not even death could take it from you."
"Come, Legolas." Thranduil grabbed his son's arm and spun the young elf to face him. "I will not accept this whore as your wife or this bastard as your heir. Now bind your hair and let us go."
"I am still within the fortnight of my bonding, Adar." The prince replied calmly, his blue eyes cold as steel. "I will cut my hair ere I bind it."
Furious, Thranduil took one of the prince's white handled knives, pulled his long blond hair into a tight tail at the nape of his neck, and with one swift jerk of the blade Legolas' golden locks fell to the floor. "Have it your way, youngling."
* * *
"Legolas, what happened to-" Aragorn stammered at the sight of his friend's shorn head.
Legolas smiled, his sapphire eyes triumphant, "I was disobedient, mellon-nîn. It is nothing."
"Nothing?" The human gazed at his friend, puzzled. "For as long as I've known you, you have always been very protective of your precious hair."
"Yes, I know." The prince glanced back up the stairs, "But it was worth it."
Aragorn followed the prince's gaze. At the top of the stair stood Ithilin. The young woman was trembling and her dark eyes were filled with tears that she refused to shed.
Legolas caught his gaze, "Take care of her, mellon-nîn. She will need your strength."
"But, Legolas, what is-"
"I have disobeyed, Aragorn. And now, I ask that you take care of Ithilin. I can not be here to do so myself."
"Legolas! Now!" Thranduil growled as he pulled his son out the door.
"You must promise this, mellon-nîn."
"You are bound?"
"Yes." Came the simple reply.
To Ithilin?"
"Yes." The elf looked his friend straight in the eye. "You must promise."
Aragorn looked back at the trembling girl again then at his friend. Seeing in the elf prince's eyes pain and hope, he nodded. "I promise, mellon-nîn. She will be well cared for."
"Thank you, Estel. You have lifted a great weight from my heart."
With that, Legolas leapt on to his horse and followed his father out of the courtyard and into the forest, heading home to Mirkwood and a life of slavery to a woman he did not love.
7
"Legolas!" came Lord Elrond's urgent voice at the door, a few days later. "Youngling, open up. I need to speak to you quickly."
The two lovers exchanged worried looks. Legolas pulled his tunic off the foot board and handed it to her. "Put it on, quickly."
He hopped off the bed and opened the door admitting the elf lord.
"What is it?" he asked seeing the worry etched on Elrond's face.
"Your father-" he began
"What?!" the prince yelped, horrified, "Here?!"
"Yes child. Down in the Great Hall pacing while I came looking for you."
"No." he cast pain filled eyes at the bed as Ithilin emerged wearing his tunic. "Lord Elrond, the bond hasn't settled yet. He could take me away from her."
Ithilin's quiet presence beside him made him look in her eyes. "Nothing and no one can take you from me." She said fiercely, her elven light flaring, "I will die before I would let that happen."
"I know you would, a'maelamin."
"Legolas, trust your father's love for you. Trust that he would not see you hurt." Elrond said laying his hand on the younger elf's shoulder. "Now both of you get dressed and come to the Great Hall."
Fear swirled in the prince's silvery eyes until Ithilin took his hand and laid it over her heart. "If nothing else," she said quietly, "trust us."
Legolas nodded and sighed. Walking to the wardrobe, he removed several articles of clothing meant for ceremony. A white silk tunic embroidered with gold and green leaves, a pair of emerald green velvet breeches and an emerald green doublet also embroidered with leaves he laid over the foot board. He took up the tunic and shrugged it on as Ithilin disappeared behind the door heading for her chambers.
He donned his clothing like a kind of armor. The better he looked the more confident he felt. He wanted to leave his hair unbound but it kept falling in his face, so he took up a leather lace and pulled it back in a loose tail down his back. Lastly, he buckled on his quiver and knives and tied the laces on his arm guards.
Ithilin met him at the door. His breath caught in his throat. Her dark blue velvet bodice had silver crescents embroidered all over the fabric, laced with a silver ribbon. Her gossamer white high collared under tunic was open to the low neck of her bodice. Silver threads chased down the length of her dark blue velvet skirt. At her slender waist hung a curved elven sword. Around her graceful neck hung a small tear shaped stone set in mithril. A silver crescent rested upon her brow. She looked like captured moonlight in a dark sapphire sky.
"Your father awaits, my lord." She said taking his arm.
"You are an impressive sight." He whispered finally, getting his mind to work again.
"You expected less?" She shook her head at him and reached up to slipped the lace out of his hair. "What is this? You are new bound and are tying your hair back."
Legolas smiled at her gentle scolding, kissing her tenderly, "It was getting in my face, love. Forgive a moments vanity."
"You *are* a peacock," she chuckled as the descended the stair and entered the Great Hall.
* * *
The elf king and Lord Elrond looked up as they entered. Elrond noted that, though they did not touch each other, they stood as close as they could without doing so; Ithilin a half step behind the prince.
"Legolas," Thranduil embraced the young elf. "Have you been enjoying your summer?"
"Aye, Adar."
"Lord Elrond tells me that you have been instructing his young ward in archery."
"Aye. She is a very able pupil and quick to learn." The prince said favorably, glancing back at his companion. "I had thought, with Lord Elrond's approval of course, to begin sword work in the next week or so."
"I'm afraid that will have to be postponed for the time being, my son."
"Why?" Legolas knew perfectly well that his father's appearance here meant that the marriage preparations had been completed.
"Legolas, I want you to meet your bride. This is Lady Yavisul."
A tall she-elf emerged from behind the king. Hair the color of ripe wheat hung in loose ringlets down her back. Wintry blue eyes gazed with cool interest at the young prince. She wore a earthy brown kirtle, girded at her slim waist by a slender gold belt.
"My Lord Prince." She said with a slight smile. Stepping forward, she offered her hand for the prince to kiss.
"My lady," he replied coolly, bending over the proffered hand, his lips lightly brushing her skin. Then he caught his father's gaze. "I need to speak with you."
"Adar," he said drawing his father aside, "I can not marry her."
"I am not giving you a choice, Legolas. I know you dislike this, but I will not have you dishonor your royal lineage by remaining a bachelor."
"Is that all I am to you?" Hurt evident in his voice. "Some whore you can sell to carry on the royal line of Mirkwood?"
"You know I love you."
"Not now I don't. I will not be used this way, father." Legolas' eyes flashed angrily, "You may have been able to goad my brothers into this, but-"
"You will *not* take that tone with me, youngling. You *will* do as you are told whether you like the situation or not."
"NO!"
"I will not tolerate this kind of behavior from you." Thranduil caught his son by the arm in a crushing grip, as though the prince was an unruly elfling. Legolas winced as his father's hand clamped down tightly on his bicep and tried to pull away.
" *I* *am* *not* *a* *child* *anymore*, *father*" he hissed.
"And I am still your father." Thranduil said, his voice low and dangerous. "You will do your duty, my young son. It is your choice. You can be forced or you can do it willingly."
Legolas squared his shoulders, his head held high and gaze cold. "I can not marry, father."
"I am not above binding you and dragging you back to Mirkwood behind my horse, Legolas."
"I can not marry because I am bound to another, Father!" He cried, wrenching his arm out of his father's grasp.
A loud crack echoed through the hall as Thranduil's hand came in to contact with Legolas' cheek sending the reeling younger elf to the floor. The elf king's eyes blazed with barely controlled rage as he drew his sword and pinned his son to the polished wood. "You are a royal, Legolas Greenleaf. I will not have common blood tainting my line. Who is this whore who dares to sully your name?"
"She is no whore, Adar. It is Ithilin." Legolas' voice was barely above a whisper. "Lord Elrond's ward."
"Get up!" he said tapping his son's chin with the point of the blade. "Go bind your hair and make ready to leave. I am taking you home. NOW!"
Legolas got slowly to his feet, anger blazing in his sapphire eyes. He knew Lord Elrond could not help him. He had never felt so helpless in his life. As he stalked out of the Great Hall, he felt Ithilin's arm link through his.
* * *
"I love you." She whispered in a tight voice as he closed and locked the door to his chambers.
"I have never doubted that, a'maelamin." He sighed, turning toward her. "I know that there was nothing anyone could have done, least of all you. He is going to force me to wed Lady Yavisul even if he has to bind and gag me to do it. There is no way out."
Ithilin nodded, staring defeatedly at the carpet.
"Ithilin, I love you and need you. Nothing can change that." He said sadly, "But I also need you to understand that herbs can be given to make me lie with her against my will."
"That may be beyond our control, but I can make our bond permanent." She said defiantly staring into his eyes.
"How?"
"By blood." She said simply. "Blood binds more fully and more permanently than mere words. It is old magic from the time our ancestors first awoke on the shores of Nen Echui." Ithilin unsheathed her blade and laid it across the palm of her hand. "Say the word and I will do it."
"Wasn't your Maiden's Blood enough?" he asked pulling the sword away from her hand. "Ithilin, you are in my heart and soul. I am bound only to you. You are my wife."
All of a sudden, her eyes went wide and she rushed into the bath chamber. Legolas chuckled softly as heard her retching into the basin. He went in and knelt beside her, gently pulling her long hair away from her flushed face.
"And the child you carry is my heir." He whispered with a smile, tenderly kissing her ear.
Dark sapphire eyes peered at him over her arm with a mixture of fear and joy.
"This is the Old Magic, a'maelamin." He pressed his hand to her belly. "This is our bond and our hope. I will never regret the choice I made because I made it within the bonds of love. And this is the product of that love."
"I'm frightened."
Legolas rubbed her back, smiling as he kissed her shoulder. "I am too. I wish I could be here for our babe's birth. Our forced separation is going to be hard on both of us, but I think it will be hardest on you. And I worry more for you, than anything."
"What of Estel?" She gasped over another heave.
"Here, this should help." He said laying a cool cloth on her neck, "Tell him, don't tell him, that's up to you. It doesn't matter now. Better?"
She nodded shakily as he handed her a small mug with water in it.
"Drink slowly."
Suddenly someone pounded on the door.
"LEGOLAS!"
The prince ignored the insistent pounding. "The door is locked, love. I will not leave until I know you're all right."
Ithilin still looked ashen and he feared she might pass out. A mixture of fear and defiance lit her luminous blue eyes.
"Can you stand?"
"I think so. Why?"
"You'll see." He helped her up and led her back into the bed chamber.
"LEGOLAS! Open this door!" the king bellowed, his fist connecting with the solid wood of the door again.
Ithilin clung, trembling, to the bed post as her mate stripped off his ceremonial garments. The leaf embroidered white tunic, he tossed over the foot board along with the jerkin and leggings. Ithilin grabbed up the silk shirt, pressing the soft fabric to her nose.
Legolas smiled, his long slender fingers brushing her cheek. "Keep it, a'maelamin. For our elfling."
After donning his normal silver tunic and dark blue-gray leggings, he threw back the bolt and stood protectively in front of the little she-elf.
"You will not harm her." He said warningly as his father burst through the heavy oaken door.
The prince then turned to Ithilin and knelt down before her. Taking her small hands in his own, he pressed them to his lips. Then he moved his hands to her hips and gently pulled her to him, planting a tender kiss on her belly. "You are my hope, hên-nîn. Grow strong so you can take care of you mother for me."
As he stood he took her in his arms, holding her to his chest, as her small body was wracked by heartbroken sobs. Then he lifted her head and drew her into a gentle but passionate kiss, his lips touching every inch of her face as though learning her by heart. "To thee do I bind my heart and soul. To thee will I remain true. Thou art my life, for without thee I am nothing. You are my chosen mate, Ithilin. I belong only to you."
"Are you packed?" the elf king demanded coldly.
"Yes, Adar." Legolas lifted Ithilin up and placed her on the bed. "Lord Elrond will look after you, a'maelamin. Be strong." He bent down and kissed her, his lips lingering against hers. "Know that my love for you will never fade. Not even death could take it from you."
"Come, Legolas." Thranduil grabbed his son's arm and spun the young elf to face him. "I will not accept this whore as your wife or this bastard as your heir. Now bind your hair and let us go."
"I am still within the fortnight of my bonding, Adar." The prince replied calmly, his blue eyes cold as steel. "I will cut my hair ere I bind it."
Furious, Thranduil took one of the prince's white handled knives, pulled his long blond hair into a tight tail at the nape of his neck, and with one swift jerk of the blade Legolas' golden locks fell to the floor. "Have it your way, youngling."
* * *
"Legolas, what happened to-" Aragorn stammered at the sight of his friend's shorn head.
Legolas smiled, his sapphire eyes triumphant, "I was disobedient, mellon-nîn. It is nothing."
"Nothing?" The human gazed at his friend, puzzled. "For as long as I've known you, you have always been very protective of your precious hair."
"Yes, I know." The prince glanced back up the stairs, "But it was worth it."
Aragorn followed the prince's gaze. At the top of the stair stood Ithilin. The young woman was trembling and her dark eyes were filled with tears that she refused to shed.
Legolas caught his gaze, "Take care of her, mellon-nîn. She will need your strength."
"But, Legolas, what is-"
"I have disobeyed, Aragorn. And now, I ask that you take care of Ithilin. I can not be here to do so myself."
"Legolas! Now!" Thranduil growled as he pulled his son out the door.
"You must promise this, mellon-nîn."
"You are bound?"
"Yes." Came the simple reply.
To Ithilin?"
"Yes." The elf looked his friend straight in the eye. "You must promise."
Aragorn looked back at the trembling girl again then at his friend. Seeing in the elf prince's eyes pain and hope, he nodded. "I promise, mellon-nîn. She will be well cared for."
"Thank you, Estel. You have lifted a great weight from my heart."
With that, Legolas leapt on to his horse and followed his father out of the courtyard and into the forest, heading home to Mirkwood and a life of slavery to a woman he did not love.
7