A/N: We'll get back to the family next chapter, I promise!
The king, the prince, and their son weren't the only ones who were having a less than stellar day. While Legolas was toiling on in labor, Aragorn was enduring his husband's sharp tongue, and Eldarion was failing to impress Findowyn, the chamber that served as the meeting hall for the Advisors' Council was full of Men who were having problems of their own. "Well, this has been turning out to be a fine day indeed," chirped Eärnil sardonically as he propped his elbows up on the gigantic table in front of him and buried his face in his hands.
The other advisors huddled around him, all feeling about the same as he was but disquieted to actually hear the words come out of his mouth. Eärnil commanded a lot of authority among them, given his position as one the king's most trusted advisors, and knowing for a fact that he believed that they were in dire straits made the gravity of their situation all too real. "Not only have we lost King Elessar and Prince Legolas' firstborn child – the heir to the throne of Gondor, for the Valar's sake! – but now we're deceiving them about it too," Eärnil continued to lament.
His friend and trusted colleague, Belecthor, broke away from the crowd, sitting down heavily next to him and giving him a comforting pat on the arm. "We are not actually deceiving anyone," he corrected, sounding far too cheerful for Eärnil's nerves to handle.
Not for the first time Eärnil marveled at Belecthor's fortitude – the Man, old enough to remember when King Elessar came to the city using the name Thorongil, should have been well into senility by now; instead he'd grown even more vibrant and laid-back since the birth of Gondor's prince. It was almost as if he were aging in reverse and becoming a bold young man in his twilight years. "I would very much like to know how you've come to that conclusion," said Eärnil with a notable lack of enthusiasm.
"What exactly have we done that can really be called deception?" asked Belecthor rhetorically. "All we've done is sent one of our numbers to meet the errand runner from the Houses outside of the citadel instead of making him all the way up here every hour to give up updates on the prince's progress. It's a service, really, to King Elessar, Prince Legolas, and to Lord Faramir too, as they get him back to send more messages that much sooner."
"He's right," agreed Arvedui as he and the rest of the advisors swarming around the seated pair nodded ridiculously.
"You see?" Belecthor asked Eärnil, gesturing toward Arvedui as if the Man had offered up indisputable evidence rather than a desperately optimistic opinion. "And if this new arrangement just happens to conceal the fact that Prince Eldarion has managed to escape our tutelage, we can't be blamed for it."
"Yes, yes," spoke up Malvegil, eager to agree with the person who wasn't foreseeing trouble in their future. "And even if they were to find out, do you not think that they should take part of the blame? King Elessar at least should, for Prince Eldarion is so much like him; especially as he was in the first years of his reign. I dare say that the prince is most likely an exact copy of what his father was like as a boy."
As he listened to his fellow advisors babble on, Eärnil took a moment to send a quiet thanks to the Valar that a Man like King Elessar was ruling over Gondor – and the Council. Before the return of the king, back when the realm was ruled by the increasingly suspicious and unstable Lord Denethor, the Council's current actions – huddling close together in the meeting hall to whisper secrets while doing everything in their power to keep the lord of the city's messenger from entering – would have been viewed as highly suspect, even tantamount to treason. Denethor had been a Man to tread carefully around and respect because you feared not to. King Elessar, on the other hand, was one of the few people in who actually preferred to hear the honest truth, no matter how unflattering, instead of cautious tact. As difficult as it had been to adjust to that change, Eärnil was very glad for the change – it was so refreshing to be advising a ruler who would actually take everything that they said into consideration!
It hadn't always been like that, as Malvegil so tactlessly noted; and in that fact laid the origins of the advisors' fondness and admiration for Prince Legolas. Many eyebrows – most of them belonging to members of the Council – had been raised when the newly crowned king had immediately married a male elf instead of seeking a wife among the nobility. Some had feared that he would provide too much of an elven influence on a ruler whom many had believed was too influenced by that world already. With great regret Eärnil recalled his own strained and chilled greeting to the new prince consort after the coronation and wedding. If only they had known then just how much of a blessing the elf's influence would truly be!
The blessing was that unlike his husband – whose foster father's advising body had been so familial with Lord Elrond's actual family that they were referred to as members of the household rather than a council or advisors – Prince Legolas had been brought up in a formal court. Consequently he possessed a keen and insightful knowledge of court politics and was always mindful that his and the king's actions were carefully balanced between reflecting favorably on them without sacrificing who they really were. It was generally understood, though never officially mentioned, that it was most likely the prince's advocacy that kept King Elessar from disbanding the Council altogether in the first four years of his reign when a lot of miscommunication and lack of trust hampered its effectiveness. So respected was Prince Legolas that it had long been since most people even thought of him as foreign born. He was now so much a citizen of Gondor that none of the advisors had objected when King Elessar appointed his husband to fill a seat on the Council that had been vacated around the time of their son's birth.
As wise and understanding as they were, or had become, however, Prince Legolas and King Elessar probably wouldn't react too well if they found out that the Council had been outwitted by Prince Eldarion. "I don't believe that you should present your theory that King Elessar is partially to blame for the prince's behavior should he question you," said Eärnil dryly.
"Do you know how to remedy this unfortunate circumstance, then?" asked Tanondor, frowning at Eärnil. "You're not suggesting that we tell them that we've misplaced their son!"
"No," hedged Eärnil thoughtfully. While the other members of the Council focused more on his standing now, the advisor found it hard to forget how little the king had trusted him at first and how long it had taken to earn the Man's confidence. He certainly didn't want to shake that faith unless no other alternative was available. "There is precious little that they would be able to do about it now, except worry. But I do think that it's time we employ the use of the guards in tracking down and retrieving Prince Eldarion."
"And the same guards would feel it was their duty to report this news to the king and prince at once!" argued Malvegil. "I for one do not wish to be exiled because a twelve-year-old boy can't sit through one etiquette lesson!"
"All of this is nonsense!" asserted Belecthor, ever the peacemaker, with a wave of his hand as nervous whispers mingled with indignant bursts at the suggestion that King Elessar might actually do something like that. "While the king and prince might not be too happy with us, they certainly won't pass down a punishment so grievous. Prince Eldarion is still in the city, after all, and I don't believe that we'll need guards to find him; he's probably gone to seek out Lady Findowyn. I've noticed that he's quite taken with her – a lovely and appropriate match, don't you think?"
"Oh yes!" chimed in Arvedui eagerly, happy that the subject had changed. All of this talk about missing princes and exile was making this newer member of the Council uneasy. "It would be better, of course, if Lady Eowyn would have another girl, as having the wife older than her husband is quite unusual; but Prince Eldarion has chosen his bride well."
Eärnil gave him a withering look. "You do realize that there will be many obstacles in marrying off our twelve-year-old prince, don't you?" he asked sarcastically. Arvedui looked chagrined. "Perhaps we should focus less on a prospect of marriage and more on the fact that we don't know where he is!"
"He will not be difficult to find," Belecthor tried to reassure him once more. "And I'm sure that afterwards he will find it in his best interest to keep his – excursion – a secret, as if he were to tell his parents they would surely punish him. And once he realizes that we inform King Elessar and Prince Legolas of his misbehavior he'll see that we aren't his enemies; just think, this whole experience might make him more open to actually paying attention at his etiquette lessons."
A shout in the hallway interrupted the exasperated response that Eärnil had burning at the tip of his tongue. Outside the chamber door a guard was demanding who was going there. Hope was kindled in all of their hearts for a moment that it was Prince Eldarion, returning and startling the Man on duty who thought that the prince was already within the meeting hall. That was extinguished, though, when the door didn't open immediately – any guard would have recognized the young prince by sight and ushered him in right away. Very few people had cause to bother the Council now since, thanks to the power of gossip, it was undoubtedly common knowledge that Prince Legolas was in labor and all court function would cease temporarily in response. That narrowed the possibilities down to basically one errand runner from the Houses of Healing.
"Oh dear," sighed Tanondor.
"It's Minardil," said Eärnil with dread as the advisors exchanged desperate glances. Later that night the nobleman would chuckle to his wife at how a room full of the most powerful Men in Gondor quailed at the thought of being confronted by a mere child; however at the time he was still to busy quailing to laugh.
"We can't let him in!" argued Malvegil. "Once he sees that the prince isn't here he will feel that he has to inform King Elessar and Prince Legolas about the situation. You know how they, but especially the king, can – overreact – when it comes to the safety of their children. The consequences for us could be devastating."
Belecthor groaned as a knock sounded on the door. "Are all of you even listening to yourselves?" he marveled. "You are frightened to let a ten-year-old errand runner in because he might tattle on us! There are very few things that are more utterly absurd. Not only am I certain that they must understand by now that Prince Eldarion has inherited the king's, ah, restless nature, but also they have time to deal with us until after he's found anyway. It isn't as if they'll come to confront us immediately; this messenger, after all, is probably here to tell us that Prince Legolas has given birth. You know that it takes his body a couple of days to, um, correct itself – if that's the proper term – and he usually takes that time to spend with his family. I doubt the king will leave his side unless the worst has happened."
"But what if that's the case?" fretted Arvedui. "What if something terrible has happened to Prince Eldarion and the day of the twins' birth is forever marred by a bleak anniversary?"
"Then I would say that we would truly deserve whatever punishment that was in store for us," Belecthor told him calmly but with no humor in his voice. Shaking his head slightly he called: "Enter!"
The door opened, but it was the young guard Bergil rather than Minardil who was on the other side. "Good day, my lords," he greeted with a proper bow. "I hope that I'm not interrupting anything of great importance."
"Only the ramblings of anxious Men," said Belecthor amiably. "We were simply awaiting word on if the prince had delivered yet; in fact, most of us had assumed that you were the messenger who was bearing that news."
"Oh, not me," said Bergil with a nostalgic smile as he remembered his days as an errand runner for the monarchy and nobility. It had been he who'd given them the news of Eldarion's birth those many years ago, choking on tears as he did so because he knew how gravely ill Prince Legolas had become in the process. He envied his successors, who had gotten and would get to deliver similar messages under happier circumstances. "I haven't been an errand runner for about ten years now. No, I just came to find out if King Elessar and Prince Legolas were available yet; from what you've just told me I gather that they aren't."
"I doubt that the prince would appreciate a visitor right now," concurred Eärnil, appreciating the knowing chuckle he got from Bergil when most of the other guards would be scandalized at the suggestion that they would violate Prince Legolas' privacy. "I take it that some pressing matter has compelled you to seek them out, though. Is there anything that we might do to be of service?"
"A message had just arrived for them."
Strange that one message was enough to make a guard leave his post to find people that he knew were probably not available. Still, the guards were diligent in seeing to it that the king and prince received all word that came to them. "Is it from the Shire?" questioned Eärnil. "If Masters Took, Brandybuck, and Gamgee have sent responses as to whether or not they'll be attending Prince Eldarion's birthday celebration we can take them."
"Unfortunately I do not think that it pertains to party affairs," said the guard. "It comes from Dol Amroth."
"Well, that's unusual but hardly unacceptable," said Belecthor. "Does Prince Imrahil require Gondor's assistance in any way?"
Bergil shook his head. "I was not told much about the letter's content."
"Send the messenger here and he can leave the letter with us," Eärnil told him. "Unless you plan on lingering outside the Houses there is no better location to wait for word that the prince has given birth, as we will probably be the first ones to know. We will be happy to pass any message along to the king and prince the first chance we get."
It seemed like a shadow passed over the young Man's face for a silent moment. "I'm sorry, my lords," he responded, stiffness in his voice and body, "but Prince Imrahil was adamant that the messenger not let the letter leave his possession until he is able to place it in either King Elessar or Prince Legolas' hands himself. He says that there can be no possibility that they will not get it; apparently it concerns what he calls a 'legal and personal' matter."
The room fell deathly silent, for every Man in there knew for certain who the message was about and could only imagine what had happened to make sending it so necessary. About thirteen years prior Dol Amroth had become the home of two of Gondor's most infamous exiles in recent memory: Lord Cirion and his daughter Nienor. No one who knew about what had taken place to lead to their banishment would have dared to mention them to the king and prince so close to the birth of their children unless there was no other way around it.
The lord had once sat on the Council; and among all of the advisors who were disappointed that the king was already spoken for and would not be looking to their daughters for a queen Cirion had been the most bitter. It was unfair that a male take the place of a woman who could actually perform all the tasks expected of a king's spouse, Cirion had asserted, taking great delight in subtly tormenting Prince Legolas for his supposed inability to bear children and pressuring him to suggest to King Elessar that it was his duty to take a mistress who could give him an heir. This perceived injustice had turned into an obsessive crusade against the prince after the elf had become pregnant with Prince Eldarion. The attacks became more blatant and personal; he had openly called Prince Legolas 'that elf whore' and accused him of being unfaithful, of bewitching the king, and of conducting himself in a manner more befitting a lusty lover on the side rather than a proper royal spouse. Eventually he'd become so irrational and treasonous that the other advisors – even those who were once counted among his friends, such as Eärnil, Malvegil and Tanondor – had turned their backs on him to the point that they had fully supported King Elessar when the monarch banished him for trying to incite the Council to rebel.
The only person who'd listened to Cirion in earnest had been his daughter. His ramblings and teachings had ended up warping Nienor's mind and her ensuing actions almost resulted in tragedy. Fully believing that she had the right to be Gondor's queen, that the prince had stolen King Elessar from her by using his body in an unseemly way, and that her final chance to bear the king's child as a mistress had been unfairly snatched away from her through unnatural magic, the lady had one day snuck into the citadel's kitchen and poisoned Prince Legolas' lunch. By pure dumb luck did she put too much of it in, causing the pregnant elf's body to violently reject it before it could harm him or the baby permanently.
With her first attempt foiled and her father's sudden exile limiting the time she had to carry her twisted plot out, Nienor had tired a more direct approach the second time. She'd slipped into the prince's magnificent garden when she'd know that he'd be alone there and confronted him with a knife. Prince Legolas and the baby had gotten through the ordeal unscathed save for a shallow cut on the belly (the result of a lucky swing when he'd been too baffled by the turn of events to respond to the situation properly) thanks to the princes cool nature and years of skill, not to mention Lord Gloin's well-timed distraction. Nienor had been arrested and detained for two weeks before King Elessar had trusted himself enough to judge her fairly as a ruler instead of a furious husband and father-to-be. By the end of her trial Cirion had repented, Nienor had remained stubbornly sure of her righteousness, she'd been sentenced go the dungeons – serving out her term in the land where her father had been exiled to – and the stress brought on by the situation had pushed Legolas into almost disastrous premature labor.
The message itself was not necessarily about threatening news but to have the events of the past rear their ominous shadow now, on that day of all days, was disconcerting. The contents of the last message of a 'legal and personal matter' from Prince Imrahil was only to send word of Lord Cirion's death after a prolonged illness; but no matter what was in this new correspondence, it would surely bring up the pain of the past and spoil this joyous occasion for King Elessar and Prince Legolas. "The king and prince are otherwise occupied at this moment, as we have told you," said Tanondor tightly. "Can this not wait a day?"
"I don't know," answered Bergil. "I have no idea what it's about."
"It's not advisable to keep messages from King Elessar and Prince Legolas for very long," said Eärnil, giving Tanondor a censuring look. "Especially not one that concerns this topic. I too would have preferred that Prince Imrahil had better timing, but this cannot wait."
"According to Minardil, the prince is very close to delivering the babies now," broke in Belecthor, smiling warmly when he saw the young guard's eyes light up with excitement. "Since Prince Imrahil found it necessary for his messenger to bring this letter here now and give it to them personally, the messenger has no choice but to wait. Bergil, make sure that this Man gets something to eat and drink before finding him a place to rest. When the errand boy returns from the Houses we'll have him send word to the king and prince as soon as possible so that they can decide when the right time to see him will be. You are dismissed now with our thanks."
Bergil bowed and exited promptly, leaving the noblemen to huddle together once more. "What do you thing that's all about?" wondered Arvedui.
"You're a simpleton if you can't guess," groused Malvegil. "It must concern the Lady Nienor."
"Yes, but how?" asked Eärnil. "Her sentence is not finished for another –"
"Few months," interrupted Belecthor in awed horror. "King Elessar sentenced her to thirteen years in the dungeons, as you undoubtedly recall, and the next day Prince Eldarion was born. Now here he is turning thirteen and her imprisonment is coming to an end. My," he added in a soft voice, "how time flies."
"I'm sure that Lady Nienor would beg to differ," countered Tanondor dryly. "Perhaps Prince Imrahil wishes to release her early and is seeking the king's approval to do so."
Eärnil shook his head. "Prince Imrahil is not a fool," he stressed. "What would be gained by making such a request? He would not risk facing the king's displeasure, not to mention the disapproval of the Gondorian people, to get a guilty woman released from her well-earned but still too lenient sentence a few months early."
"Perhaps he feels that she should be incarcerated longer," suggested Arvedui with raised eyebrows. "My brother and his wife recently traveled to Dol Amroth and word there is that the lady remains as unapologetic now as she was at the trial. Do you remember how rude she was when Prince Legolas offered his forgiveness?" He snorted. "Were I in his position I would have demanded to see her head on a spike."
"Pleasant," commented Eärnil. "I'm sure you had a point; please make it."
"My point is that she's reported become even more unruly since her father's death," elaborated Arvedui. "There have been rumors that she blames Prince Legolas for her father's death and has been making threats concerning him and the children; I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if it was all true. Prince Imrahil is in a good position to know about this and could be conveying the message that it would be best if she remained locked up."
While they were pondering his possibility someone rapped on the other side of the door. "That messenger had better not be insisting on being taken to the king and prince at once," growled Eärnil irritably. "Enter!"
The door flew open and a visibly ecstatic Minardil bounded it. "Boy!" cried Eärnil in surprise. The other advisors rearranged themselves as if to hide the absence of the crown prince from the errand runner. "We weren't expecting you for several more minutes."
"I know but as soon as I got back they sent me out again," explained Minardil in a rush. "The babies! Prince Legolas had the babies while I was last here! I got to see them too, since I was getting my orders from Lord Faramir and he was in the healing chamber with them by the time I got back."
"Well then," said Belecthor with an indulgent chuckle. "As you seem to be the most knowledgeable person here on the topic, what more can you tell us? Are they males or females or one of each? Do they have names yet? How do the infants and the prince fare?"
"They are Princess Gilraen and Princess Meren," said Minardil importantly, "and they are very fair indeed, just like the prince. The babies have a little bit of blonde hair, though it's not as light as Prince Legolas', and pointy ears too like everyone else in their family except for King Elessar of course."
Belecthor held up his hand. "Breathe," he instructed. The errand runner obeyed by drawing in a deep breath. "Now tell us: what is the king's command?"
"That you send out word to all of Gondor about the happy occasion," Minardil recited. "You may also visit them in the Houses tomorrow morning, if you keep the visit short and away from anything more stressful than the preparations for Prince Eldarion's birthday celebration. Oh, and that I'm supposed to fetch the prince and Princess Laurelin too. I thought that he was here with you; where is he?"
Eärnil often did his best thinking on his feet and that moment was no exception. With a mischievous glint in his eyes he figured out the perfect answer to this long-dreaded question. "He's snuck off," he said. "You can probably find him either in Prince Legolas' garden or in the royal quarters in the citadel – wherever you might look for Princess Laurelin. If you are unable to locate him, please inform his parents that he disobeyed us and ran off."
"But won't that get him in trouble?"
"If there's any justice in this world," replied Eärnil in a long-suffering tone. 'Which,' he mused quietly, 'remains to be seen until we know the contents of that message. There would be no justice at all if that woman were allowed the change to do that obnoxious, dear crown prince and his sisters any harm.'
To be continued…