Chapter Six

"What is wrong, little Greenleaf? You are distraught!"

Legolas gratefully sank into his uncle Saer's welcomeing arms, pressing his tear streaked face into the soft fabric of the tunic Saercaeron wore. The Duke held back a grimance as he imagined the body fluids being rubbed onto his new shirt.

'Indeed - the elfling is disgusting. Note to self - never have snotty nosed children,' he thought.

"Uncle, my adar told me to leave and not return until solstice! What am I to do (sniff) now?" The prince cried into his 'uncles' chest, "where do I go?"

Saercaeron replaced the satanic grin that automaticaly appeared on his face with one with a compassionate and understanding mask. "Oh, little Greenleaf! What has happened?"

Legolas pulled away and wiped his dripping nose, something that Saercaeron thought shouldn't happen to elves, and sat down on one of the cusiony chairs placed around the spacious talan that was the Grand Duke's residence.

"Adarthel missed the graduation ceremony because I let that old councilor Celairrim in to speak with her. Adar said that I should have known not to let her be distracted because she isn't intelligent and is easily side tracked. It was my fault and the ceremony was ruined!"

Saercaeron shook his head. He crouched down infront of the chair Legolas sat sulking in and placed a comforting hand on the young elf's shoulder. "You needn't blame yourself - I am more to blame than you, Thranduilion. Celairrim carried a message from me to your adarthel, an urgent message for her to meet with me in my offices. And you really shouldn't listen to what your adar says about her," Saercaeron felt angry at Thranduil's words about his very intelligent sister. "I will tell you something that I am sure you have never heard before, but you must promice that you will never let anyone know that I have told you this."

The last words made Legolas sit up strait with curiosity burning in his large, teary, blue eyes.

"What is it, uncle?"

Saercaeron - who knew as well as the late Celairrim had, that Oropher wanted to switch heirs - grinned and brought his head closer to the princes' ear.

"She is far greater than your royal father, mayhaps she is even on the same level as the Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien, and your grandfather Oropher knew it. He wished to change the laws of heredity from the eldest child to that of the King's choosing. Oropher would have chosen your adarthel Orien to be Queen. Unfortunately he was killed, as you know, in the Great Battle. Your adar became king after him," Saercaeron looked for a way that he could make it sound like - to the young prince - that his father had actually killed Oropher to keep Orien from upsurping his inheritance but found no straws to pull at just yet. 'Later, later he will ask. He will grow suspicious... but will that make him wish that his aunt be ruler.... this is something I will have to smooth out. Orien, oh most beautiful wretch, is intelligent but not smart. I have a great plan....'

While Saercaeron held out a lengthy inner dialogue, Legolas arose from his seat and looked around at the many trinkets and paintings placed around the talan. He paused infront of one that made him shivver - as it did to all who looked at it except Saercaeron himself - it was one the Duke had painted. Plumes of smoke rose high in the air as flames darted and danced around the great gates of Mirkwood, the shadows of spiders magnified upon the high stone walls, and three tattered and singed elves fired darts franticaly at some fell beast just past the edge of the painting.

Legolas shook his head increadolusly - his uncle painted wonderfully but his topics were always so... morbid. All his pantings contained something to do with a great disaster that had happened to the first born. There was one depicting the burning of Gondolin and the death of Glorfindel, another showing the kinslaying and the burning of the stolen ships, and of course the one Legolas looked at now that told the story of the great spider raid and orc attack upon the Mirkwood capital and the deaths of his elder brothers. Malthenlas, Celebolor, and Nargwiror had fought to the death the attacking spiders, protecting his family and himself.

Saercaeron knew that they hadn't been on the wall when they died, but he thought it looked more heroic to have them there rather than in the middle of the forest.

But it did not matter.

Limmon was better now, or so the healers told him, so he knew he had to go find his friend Raunion. The errant elf had promised to come check up on him while he was healing. It had been over a week and still there was no word from Raunion.

'Figures,' Limmon shook his head a grinned, 'He will have been greeted with banquets and family which would not let him depart too soon or without a good filling of wine. But still, he did promise.'

With his arm bandaged and under strict orders to return every third day to have the wound checked and re-bandaged, Limmon was released from the healers halls. He reported immediatly to his commanding officer, but was told to take a holiday until he was fully healed. The last thing needed to be worried about was a wounded sentinel.

So Limmon found himself with a great deal of spare time to get caught up on the happenings of the town, the court, and his own family. It seemed that in the time he had been on duty and in the infirmary, his sister had found a beau and they were courting one another regularily.

"So, Laeron, you are a friend of Silad? How fares he since I last saw him?"

Laeron, a guard of the gate and beau of Limmon's sister, shook his head sadly, "not well, Limmon. His entire family is distraught on the disappearance of two of their kin."

Limmon cocked his head to the side, "really? I had not heard of this, which two are missing?"

"Silad's father, Celairrim, has been missing and so is his sister's brother- in-law, who had only just returned to the kingdom a week ago."

A curse flew out of Limmon's mouth before he could stop it, "gweston! That is Raunion! It was I that found him in the woods. He fought with me against the attacking spiders - that was how I was hurt. How long have they been lost?"

"Raunion and Celairrim disappeared on the same day - it was the very day that your friend returned! None has heard from them since."

Limmon groaned. This was terrible news - his friend must have taken flight for some reason, maybe out of grief, but that did not explain the dissapearance of Celairrim.

While Limmon pondered what could possibly have happened, his family's subject of conversation moved to the prince Legolas moving out of the palace and in with his kinsman, the Grand Duke Saercaeron.

Celairrim, whom I have called Raunion's cousin, it not his cousin cousin, but a distant relative. Say - like a third or fouth cousin or second great uncle. Hence, Silad and Celairiel (Ionvain's wife) were already distant kin of the Henvainions.
And now for a limited time only, in reviews ask any questions about anything in this story and I will answer, and make any suggestions and I will incorperate them into the story! But I must warn you - I am leaving for the summer to cadet camp for 7 weeks so I won't be updating the story as often as usual.

Thanks and toodles, Silabrithil.