Well, since I can't reply to reviews here, anymore, I suppose there's not much left to say...

Chapter 22: Left with the baby

A discontented sound made itself heard through the group of elves. They all looked over at the source, the elf's ears bright red as he shifted his feet a bit uneasily. "Um… well, my wife wanted to visit her brother, who is a bachelor… and, well…"

"Left you with the baby?" Ferien asked in shock, looking at the creature in Waristan's arms as if it was going to suddenly grow larger eyes, claws, teeth, and otherwise turn itself into an orc or a goblin.

"Well… we aren't going on patrol until almost two weeks before she gets back," he murmured.

"You're going to be toting him around for the next three weeks?" Darlon asked in absolute horror.

"Well, no… my sister is coming back to the halls day after tomorrow. This should be the only day…" he looked beseechingly at Legolas, who was watching the whining child as he listened to the conversation.

"You should spend more of your free time with your family," he murmured softly, reaching out to the child, who was given over without hesitation, and, in fact, a hint of desperation. Legolas tucked the infant into his arm with the absent confidence of experience and studied the wide blue eyes which had focused on him just as intently. "Darlon, you should figure out the difference between males and females sometime—might come in handy. How old is she?" he asked the embarrassed father.

Waristan shifted a bit. "Four months."

"She left a four month old little girl with you?" Ferien asked, eyes even wider. "That's…"

"Foolish," Legolas muttered.

"My sister…"

"And in the meantime, who plans to feed her? You?" he broke in, glaring at the uncertain elf before returning his attention to the fussing bundle. "No wonder she's upset," he murmured, voice softening as he watched her. Of the ten that were not titled in the group, eight were bachelors, and somewhat determined—at least at present—to remain so. The other two had, between them, six children. Waristan had just been handed his first to care for, and was clearly lost. With a sigh Legolas devoted himself to calming the small child, and the others watched in some surprise as she quieted, watching him just as solemnly as he gazed at her.

Suddenly she smiled, then cooed slightly and began gurgling happily, waving her arms around. Waristan stared at them in shock. "What… how…"

"It's part of being a father, Waristan. Learn how to reach them."

"So… how many children have you had?"

Legolas glared over his shoulder at the impudent elf who had dared suggest such a thing. His tone was biting. "None. But, if you recall, I was over four hundred when my brother was born. I had lots of practice at this by the time Morsallien was conceived."

Waristan shifted uncomfortably. "You mean you talked to them before they were born?"

"It's not so much words, but yes," he agreed, before handing the infant back. "Didn't you?"

"I…"

"Not all of us have the knack."

Legolas lifted a brow, but didn't comment. "As there is nothing formal to do, I would like you to work on your weak points for today. For most of you, that is not archery, so if you would kindly put your bows away…"

There were a few groans before the bows were put away. "What, then?" Ferien asked.

Legolas directed them around, and found himself watching the little one, as Silrinil wasn't present to spar with him.

"Where's our lady, Captain?"

"The King wished to speak with her. She'll be along when she can be." He inclined his head to their work, and when they had begun he considered what his father could have wanted to speak with her about that couldn't have been asked at the dinner table. It wasn't uncommon for them to dine in the family room, making conversation much easier… but all he had said was that he wished to speak with her.

He had a bad feeling about that discussion, though he couldn't quite put in words why he was so worried.

He did know he was afraid something his father said would make her want to leave, even if she knew she would have to come back again. He simply didn't want her to leave… which really wasn't all that wonderful a thought.

She had lost her mate, for Eru's sake, and in the last months since Elleri's attack and subsequent Captainship, he had found himself having to remind himself of that rather too often for his own peace of mind. He didn't know if the other male was still alive, and found himself hoping not, which was not only uncharitable but not really like him.

Normally. It seemed around her that 'normal' was somehow skewed.

It had gotten worse in the last weeks… it was probably their spars. He had to snort at his thoughts—how could sparring, usually without speaking, have anything to do with anything other than increasing fighting skills? When it was with her, though, it did. They had recently had to schedule their fights when they had a good bit of time to give over to it, because they lasted for so long, and could hardly be distracted from the task at hand.

Every Captain and all the groups had come, at least once, to watch them fight. The reason they came was the reason he blamed the spars for the almost intimate closeness he sometimes felt with her. He could read her, just as she could read him. He hadn't realized it at first, of course… at least, when they first began reading each other. The first few fights hadn't been like that, but the other matches… it was exhilarating, fighting someone you knew so well… but it also made him hate the idea of her ever sparring with Glorfindel again.

Of course, as soon as the match was yielded, he had to restrain himself from touching her, holding her… and the thought that she might be married would usually bring him up cold.

It wasn't a sanctioned marriage if she was, as his father performed them. Still, when souls met… it was, really, a marriage, and neither could ever fully be free of it, sanctioned vows and witnesses or no.

Legolas was still sitting there after the others left, still contemplating the dirt in front of his feet when a faint sound at his shoulder made him look up. He shot to his feet and grasped her arms. "What happened?"

She gazed at him for a long moment, her face so pale, eyes so dark… and didn't seem to even see him.

"Silrinil?" he asked, his hands tightening over her upper arms. He shook her slightly when she kept looking through him. "What happened?" he asked, shifting her closer, one hand around her back, the other tilting her head slightly. "Linir?"

She shook slightly, a few blinks focusing her eyes on his. She frowned faintly. "Legolas?"

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Are you all right?" he asked gruffly.

She took a deep breath herself, and let it out on a sigh as she laid her head on his shoulder.

Blinking in shock, he held her tightly, wondering what his father had said to upset her so… and mentally censoring his future irate conversation with said father. "What happened, Linir?"

She shook her head slightly.

With a sigh he moved so he could see her face. "Linir…" His warning tone had no effect, as he should have known. "Linir, please. You looked like the world had fallen in on your head," he murmured softly, stroking her hair.

She shuddered.

"Linir," he breathed. Realizing he had held her more tightly, he eased his hold and touched her cheek. "Please… say something. You're actually scaring me," he admitted on a shuddering breath, his tone betraying the truth of the statement.

She sighed and shook her head, nuzzling into him, nose buried in his collar. "I can't, Legolas."

"Why not?" he asked, only a little relieved that she was at least speaking. "I don't understand why you hide so much… I already know more than Ada—he doesn't know about your mate, does he?"

It took a long moment, but she shook her head quickly.

"Then why can't you tell me?"

She shuddered, holding more tightly to him.

The realization that she'd come to him for comfort nearly knocked him off his feet. Always before she went to Elleri… perhaps…

Perhaps she was softening towards him.

He found her chin, tipping her head up. A funny little quiver shot through his stomach to see the tears that she wasn't quite letting fall, encouraging him to lift his hand to brush at those lashes, his fingers sinking into her hair, his forehead tipping forward to rest against hers as he caught her eyes, trying to project calm and caring to her as he had to Waristan's little girl.

It didn't have quite the same effect. A tear fell, followed by another, then another. "Legolas, he…"

"He what, Linir?" he asked softly.

"He's given me a month."

"A month?" he asked, not comprehending. A month for what?

"A month before he'll order me to tell him exactly why I left. Legolas… I… I can't tell him…"

He looked into her pleading eyes, and pulled her a bit closer. "Shh," he murmured. "I'll—"

"Captain?"

He mentally swore, but released her slowly, turning to face the intruder. "Yes, Waristan?"

"Could you settle her down again?" he asked hopefully. "Hello, Silrinil," he murmured, inclining his head slightly. Then he frowned, seeing the evidence of tears. "Something wrong?" he asked, looking at Legolas with sudden hostility.

She smiled faintly, shaking her head, stepping up a little so she could touch Legolas's sleeve, relieving him of blame for her condition.

Legolas accepted the girl, realizing he hadn't asked her name yet… and hadn't been informed of her impending birth, nor, in fact, told of her existence. He would have to have a word with Waristan. Later. Once the two she-elves touching him were soothed. The infant was easy enough, latching onto him gladly, slipping into a desperately needed slumber before he passed her back. "I would like a few words with you sometime, Waristan—but don't worry about it for now. Take care of her."

Waristan wasn't listening. "Silrinil?" he asked softly, before looking down at his daughter. "Is something wrong?"

Legolas looked at her sharply, and noted the struck look. "Dismissed," he commanded abruptly, sending the other elf off. "Linir?" he asked, touching her shoulder lightly.

She jerked at the touch, staring up at him for a moment, before her focus returned and became intense, as if she could see into him. On the chance she'd picked up that ability in her travels, he didn't hide from her.

With a small whimper she turned aside, then took a deep breath, covered her mouth with her hand… and bolted. There was no other word for the sudden race away from him.

It took him only a moment before he was after her, taking the halls that no one was likely to use—soon seeing her ahead as she fumbled with her lock, slamming the door shut behind her.

Hoping she hadn't locked it, he tried the handle, but was stuck on the side other than he had wished to be. "Linir?" he asked, pressing his ear to the wood panel.

"Go away," she whispered, before a shaking breath caught.

She was crying.

"Open the door," he pleaded softly.

Another choking breath.

He dropped his forehead to the wood, thinking quickly. Elleri probably had a key, if anyone other than the cleaning servant did… and that old elf would never give him the key, no matter what he might say. Unless there was blood seeping out from under the door—

He stopped the thought, the image, shuddering, and went to his own room, passing through it to Elleri's. He checked the place he used to keep her key, and sighed in relief, picking the new one up. "I'll explain later," he murmured to his absent brother, before returning to her room, unlocking it before locking it behind him, pocketing both keys, hoping he could keep her from reaching the third, wherever she kept it.

She was kneeling just a few steps within the door, rocking slightly, a hand over her eyes and another clenched tightly to her middle. She was so caught up in her misery that he was behind her before she knew he had opened the door—she started when he wrapped his arms around her.

She pulled away, rushing to her feet, moving a bit shakily to the bag that held her wandering supplies… always ready, he noted bitterly. When she picked it up, he realized what she was doing and rushed over, pulling the bag from her fingers.

"No, Linir. Not like this."

She shuddered and reached for it. "But I… I can't stay."

"I'll speak to Ada, Linir. I'll make him see." If he had to, he'd tell his father that if he drove her away, he would go after her… and wander with her, if she didn't want to return.

She shook her head. "It's not him, Legolas. It's me… it's us."

"Us?" he repeated, voice devoid of his emotions. He wasn't sure if he should be glad there was an 'us', or upset that it was clearly something of a problem for her.

"All of you—Thranduil, Verine, Morsallien, Elleri, you… when you find out…"

"What? Afraid we won't want you here?" he asked, attempting a smile which fell completely flat when she shivered. "Linir!" he exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. "I can't imagine anything would make us want you to leave."

She didn't respond, and didn't accept his touch.

He sighed, walking her back until she was sitting on the bed. He knelt before her, hands on her knees to reassure her he was there… and to give him warning if she tried to bolt again. "Have you killed anyone who wasn't trying to kill you?"

She hesitated.

"Orcs and spiders don't count," he amended.

She still hesitated.

"Intentionally?" he asked, beginning to get a little concerned.

She shook her head.

He squeezed her knees. "Didn't sell yourself to Morgoth or something, right?"

She managed a weak smile as she shook her head, but another salty drop fell to grace her cheek.

He brushed it away when it was clear she was going to let it stay. "Then I can't think of anything that would make us want you to leave." As he watched her stare at something in his general vicinity, the circumstances of her sudden desire to run caught up with him. "It has something to do with the child?"

Slowly she nodded.

"Did you steal one?"

She shook her head.

Suddenly his chest tightened. "Did you have one?"

A hesitant shake… before her eyes closed, two more tears falling from her eyes.

"But you wanted to." It was hard to breathe.

She tilted her head, shaking it, then nodding, then shaking it again. She lifted a hand to her eyes once more, trying to draw her knees up.

He rose, picking her up, settling her into the center of the bed, letting her curl up. He laid down in front of her, a hand on her shoulder so he could still stop her if she ran. He waited.

Eventually the hand not holding her middle fell from her eyes, resting under her chin. "I… was too inexperienced when it happened," she murmured, looking through him. "The binding overwhelmed me…" she smiled wryly. "Even though I think it was incomplete."

"Why?"

"Aren't you supposed to sense the other after the binding?" she asked softly.

"Usually," he agreed, with a faint frown.

"As soon as we were no longer touching, I couldn't sense him."

"Can you now?"

She took a deep breath. He reached up and lightly brushed her hair back. She shook her head. "Not at the moment."

He nodded, then half-shrugged. "It's possible that you were too young for it to fully happen… or it wasn't intended."

"Well, I hadn't given it any thought," she grumbled.

He realized, quite suddenly, that she was, at best, ambivalent about her binding. "You left because you didn't want to be bound?"

She closed her eyes, curling up a little more. "He didn't want to be."

He tugged her closer, resting his chin against the top of her head. "Then he was a fool."

He could almost feel her faint, quick smile, before she shuddered and reached out slightly, touching his side. He rolled her over, spooning her against him. She relaxed slowly, letting him link their fingers against her stomach.

"I didn't know, when I left."

"Know what?"

She was silent long enough he propped himself up slightly to look down at her. She took a shuddering breath, eyes closed. "That I was with child."

His stomach clenched. "How long before you lost it?"

"Not long," she sighed, trembling slightly. "I couldn't even reach it yet."

"How?"

She shook her head. "It was a foolish mistake I would never make now—I didn't know the land, didn't know the danger… I was chased by orcs off a cliff, into a lake. I was too injured to get far, but pushed myself too hard to get away before they could catch up. With all my injuries… it was too much." She was silent for a long moment, before her body shook against his own. "Valar, how I wanted that child. I hadn't intended it, but the thought of having part of him with me…"

He held her a bit closer. "He never knew."

"Obviously."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Why?" she asked softly.

He hesitated. "It… well, he is bound to you, as well…"

She shook her head slightly. "I've seen no evidence of that."

"He has to be, Linir, or you wouldn't be bound to him. It's pained you too much to be without him," he held her for a long while, giving her what comfort his touch might allow. Eventually he sighed, knowing he had to leave but also that he didn't want to. "I should go talk to Ada, tell him what an idiot he is."

"Don't… don't tell…"

"Of course not, Linir," he murmured softly, hugging her closer for a moment. He kissed her cheek before getting up. "Do you want a meal sent up?"

"I couldn't eat," she replied softly.

With a nod he removed the keys from his pocket, opening the door, leaving one key on the hook beside it as he stepped through. After locking it, he headed swiftly down the hall to his father's study.

He walked in without knocking.

Thranduil looked up in surprise, blinking when he saw Legolas. "Well. Shut the door before you explode."

Legolas slammed the door and stalked forward, eyes narrowed on the elf he currently felt no affection for. "If you try to make her tell, she will run, Ada."

"She can't keep it bottled up forever, Legolas. If she would just tell someone—"

"Then you can be at peace. She has."

"You know why she left?"

"More or less."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning even when she's being candid I get the feeling she is holding something back."

"Well… why did she leave?"

Legolas shook his head. "No, Ada."

"Legolas, I—"

"No."

Thranduil pursed his lips. "Must I remind you that I am the King?"

"And me just a lowly crowned prince? Throw me in the dungeons if you like, Ada. It is her secret."

"Entrusted to you."

"Yes. And I will keep it, until she no longer does." He focused intently on his father. "Well? Shall she run and I hand my group over to the other Captains?"

Thranduil sighed. "You know you shan't. Neither of you."