Legolas lay on his mattress, with the thin sheet wrapped tightly around his body. It was night, and he had been allowed to leave the company of Seregeth nearly two hours back. He was tired, but sleep had not come near. His silver eyes had long ago found a constellation of stars through the window to rest on, in the hope that their calm twinkle would be enough to lull him into the world of dreams. But that had not happened, nor would it for a long time, he knew.
'If I was at home and I couldn't sleep,' Legolas thought, 'I would go to Ada and Nana. They would let me stay with them. But that won't happen here.'
He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a moment. The day had not been a happy one. First of all there had been the abuse inflicted upon the tender skin of his hand, and then there was the rabbit. Seregeth had stuck to his word, and had eaten the creature for his evening meal, forcing his captive to watch him do so, yet not even offering a small bit of meat. It seemed that he really did mean what he had said about starving the child.
'I am so hungry, but even if he had offered me some of the rabbit meat, I wouldn't have taken it,' Legolas thought bitterly. 'It was horrible of him to have killed it in the first place, but eating it was even-
The door opened, cutting him off mid-way through his sad reflections. He immediately turned his head to the side, hoping against hope that Seregeth would think him asleep, and would leave once more. But it was not to be. The man knelt beside the mattress; and, placing a hand on the child's shoulder, shook him. There was no reaction, and he shook a little harder.
"Legolas, wake up," he hissed.
"Seregeth? What is it?"
"Come with me," the mortal replied. "There is something that you must see."
"Now?" Legolas asked, glancing out at the dark sky. "But it is late. What time is it?"
"Gone midnight," Seregeth answered. "Put your cloak on over your sleeping tunic, and come to the stables. Do not be long, else you will miss it."
The Elfling got up and shook his head as his captor left the room without another word. To say that he was not confused would have been an untruth. But curiosity overcame bewilderment, and he draped his cloak over his shoulders, pulling it close as he followed Seregeth outside the cottage and into the chill air of the night that penetrated him like daggers – at such a young age, he was not yet immune to the cold as elder immortals were.
"Come," the man said softly, without turning from where he stood in the open doorway of the left hand part of the stable.
Legolas paused, and let his eyes rest on the other's back. "What is it?"
Seregeth laughed quietly. "You are wary of coming too close, for fear of my hurting you. I will not. You may go back inside, if you so wish. I merely thought that this would be something you would like to see."
His curiosity pushed far enough, Legolas went forwards and stood beside the man. His primary instinct was to immediately distance himself, but what he saw made him draw in a sharp breath, and momentarily forget his discomfort. For lying in the straw inside the stable was the large female dog. Damp was her patchy fur, and her pink tongue lolled from her mouth. At the side of the room a dark male dog sat, watching the proceedings impassively.
"She is having her puppies," Legolas breathed.
"Yes. She has had four already, and I think that there is only one left to come," Seregeth answered. "Do not venture in yet, else the male dog will snap at you. He is protective, and that protectiveness could lead to ferocity."
Legolas winced as the bitch whined in distress. "Is it hurting her?"
"Of course. This is a pain that all mothers must endure," Seregeth replied. "This is her first litter, but she is very strong. She has produced some fine pups already. They will earn good money."
"Money?"
"You did not think that I would keep them all, did you? Where do you propose they live? I have room enough for them at this size, but when they grow, they will be sold in town." Seregeth paused, and moved his eyes down towards the child. "But I have not forgotten my promise to you: if your behaviour pleases me, you may keep one for yourself."
"What if you don't manage to sell them all?" Legolas asked. "Will you bring them back here?"
"Like I said, there would be no room," Seregeth answered. "I would have to drown the remaining ones."
"That is cruel."
"I cannot be overrun with dogs."
Legolas opened his mouth to argue his point, but closed it again when he noticed what was happening inside the stable. The last puppy was indeed on the way. Holding his breath in anticipation, the child bit down on his lower lip excitedly. Never before had he been a witness to the arrival of a new life, but he understood now why it was such a special event.
But despite that, he was unable to pick just one word to explain how the birth made him feel. He felt privileged to be allowed to see such a thing; he was excited, and looking forwards to when the puppies would start playing; and yet, a great sadness was also on him, for some time in the near future, the young animals would be separated from their parents, and he knew only too well what that was like.
"How long will they stay here before you sell them?" Legolas murmured.
"Five weeks, I expect. That will give me enough time to gradually wean them off their mother's milk. Some would say that is too soon, but from experience, I know it to be just fine," Seregeth replied.
"Five weeks old." Legolas sighed deeply, and his silver eyes were sad. "It is better, I think, that they are taken from their parents at that age. At least they will have few memories, and will not really know what's happening to them."
Seregeth looked down sharply, and shook his head. "Do not try and compare yourself to these animals, Legolas. Both situations are very different."
"That wasn't what I was trying to do," the Elfling replied. "But now that you mention it, I would rather…actually…no, it doesn't matter. I don't know really."
"Please, elaborate."
"I was going to say I wish that I had been taken from Ada and Nana when I was only a baby. That way, I would have no memories, and it wouldn't be so sad. You can't miss what you've never had," Legolas said slowly. "But then I realised that would mean never knowing my parents at all, and never being loved, so…I don't know."
Seregeth smiled as the child shrugged helplessly. "I see. Just be thankful that you were able to spend a good few years with your mother and father. Surely knowing them for a small amount of time is better than not at all?"
"Don't try and be nice to me!" Legolas snapped. "Don't try and pretend that you understand, and don't try and make me feel better! You aren't, you don't, and you can't. You don't know what it feels like, so I don't want you, the man who's keeping me from Ada and Nana, to try and be sympathetic. Just don't."
"And don't you tell me what to do," Seregeth said, a warning bite to his voice.
Legolas gritted his teeth together in frustration, and contented himself with shooting the man a cold look instead of words that he knew would only cause trouble. He held the blue gaze for a moment, before directing his attention back into the stable. As he did so, a sudden smile graced his features, and his eyes flickered happily. The final puppy was on its way! It would not be long now, not long at all.
'It's exciting to watch, but I'm glad I am a boy and not a girl,' Legolas thought. 'I wouldn't want to do this.'
"Nearly there," Seregeth said softly.
The bitch's muscles tensed for a moment, and then with one last push, she delivered her final child. Her head sank down to rest in the damp straw for a few brief seconds, but was up again almost immediately, searching for the newborn. She twisted her body around and began licking the pup, whose high-pitched squeals of protest echoed in the small space.
Legolas screwed up his face. "Why…?"
"This is what must be done within two minutes of the puppy's birth," Seregeth explained. "It is covered with a soft layer of tissue which must be removed, otherwise it will suffocate."
"Oh. Then, did that…did that happen to me?" Legolas asked uncertainly.
This time it was the man's turn to screw up his face. "Of course not! Have you not been taught about the birthing process?"
"No, not yet. Anyway, I don't want to be a healer, so I never asked," the child replied. "I want to be a warrior, like Ada. I want to protect my family and friends from Orcs and spiders, and I want to be able to ride fast horses, and I want to climb trees without being told off; and…"
He trailed off into silence, and let out a deep exhale of breath that spoke only too clearly of his misery. Whatever else he might want, having Seregeth know all about his hopes and dreams was the very last thing. He didn't want to hold a conversation in any form with the man. But it was hard to keep his thoughts to himself when there was no-one else whom he could tell of them.
"You may see the puppies again in the morning," Seregeth said softly. "I think that we should leave the family alone now."
Legolas took a last look at the exhausted mother and her newborns, before nodding once and turning back to the cottage. He had taken only a few steps though, when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder, holding him still. He closed his eyes briefly as the mortal stepped before him; and he wondered irritably what on Arda was wanted with him this time.
"You and I," Seregeth began, "could be friends."
The child frostily arched an eyebrow, his expression eerily reminiscent of one of his father's best. "Would you become friends with someone who was holding you prisoner, away from those you love? Would you become friends with someone who hurt you?"
"Maybe not at first, but after, who knows?" Seregeth replied. "You despise me, I am not blind to that. And you have good reason to, I suppose. But really, I can be a nice man. You just have to take some time to adjust to the situation."
"I will remember that," Legolas said softly. "May I go now?"
Seregeth nodded his consent with a smile, but as soon as the Elfling had turned away, it was replaced with a vicious sneer. Nice? That word and his name had not been used in the same sentence for many years – too many for him to remember. And in any case, his efforts had been wasted this time. Legolas had not believed him, as deep down, he had expected.
"But that does not concern me," Seregeth murmured. "I know that I have time enough to break you."
………………………………………………………………………………………………
Thranduil glanced across at Alondir, and gestured around the clearing they had stopped in. "We may as well rest here for a few minutes. This is as good a place as any."
"As you wish," the commanding officer replied. He turned to the Elven soldiers, and nodded once. "You have heard the orders. Take this short time to refresh yourselves. We move on again in no more than ten minutes."
"I sense something in your voice," Thranduil said slowly. "You speak stiffly; your words are forced. I have not heard that from you since the Last Alliance."
Alondir exhaled as he sat on the ground and rested his back against a tree trunk. "Worry not for me. You are the one who has lost a child, not I."
"No." The Elven-king shook his head as he sat beside his friend. "You were close to him, I know that. And I am sorry. I did not stop to think that this would be hurting you also."
"You have had more than enough on your mind," Alondir replied, flicking his wrist dismissively. "I did not expect you to think of me."
"Maybe. But come, why do we speak so solemnly?" Thranduil smiled, for his own reassurance if not his friend's. "Legolas may not have been found yet, but we both knew it was inevitable that finding him would take time and patience."
"Of course." Alondir stood, and forced himself to smile back. "I need a moment alone now to think of what course we will take."
As the commanding officer moved away, Thranduil drew in a deep breath, and pulled his knees to his chest. He wrapped his arms around them, gazing about, eyes piercing the surrounding dimness, and the trees and bushes. He knew what he hoped to see, but also knew that he wouldn't. It hurt. It hurt, knowing that his son was somewhere in the forest – and Mirkwood was no small place – but the two were unable to be together.
"May I sit here?"
The Elven-king looked up in surprise. So caught up in thoughts had he been, the footsteps had gone un-noticed. "Feel free."
"Thank you." Thalion sat in front of the Elf, and jerked his head back to where Alondir stood talking with some of the others. "I hope my saying this does not offend you, but if I may…"
"Go on."
"I think that a few of your soldiers are reluctant to carry on searching for your son."
Thranduil narrowed his eyes at the words, and shook his head. "What do you mean by that?"
"I have heard them. They say that finding Prince Legolas in this forest is as easy as finding a Halfling in a stack of hay," Thalion replied. "They grieve for his loss, of course, but they believe that their efforts are fruitless, and nothing will come of them save prolonged false hope."
"Do you tell me this to cause trouble or are you being sincere?" Thranduil asked suspiciously.
The man's eyes flashed, and he leaned forwards to keep his words private. "I know that you dislike me, and that does not bother me. I do not want or ask for your friendship. I have already told you that all I want is a little more respect, but I do not seem to be receiving any."
"Forgive my negligence," Thranduil said coldly.
Thalion's hand shot out as though to grab the Elf's tunic, but he hissed and quickly drew it back, as though remembering who it was before him. "I am a captain of maybe thirty men. That may not be as many as you have, but nonetheless, if there was doubt, resentment, animosity, anything going on in that group, I would want to know so that I could take action to make things right. That is why I told you. But if this is the sort of gratitude that I receive, it will not happen again."
Thranduil gazed at the man in wonder. Few could speak to him thusly and escape without becoming a victim of the temper that he was so famous for. In fact, he could probably count on just one hand the number of people who ever dared to raise their voices to him. Mithrandir was one of the exceptions – but then, the Istar was afraid of and could be cowed by no-one; Alondir, who had always been like a second father; and a few of Oropher's old councillors who still struggled to accept that their headstrong and unruly Prince had become their King.
"Do you have anything to say to that?" Thalion asked softly. "Or will I not be graced with a reply?"
Without even sparing the man a glance, never mind a reply, Thranduil stood and walked to where his soldiers were gathered. They broke off their conversations as soon as their Lord's presence was felt; and a few of the younger ones who had only recently joined Mirkwood's troops, gazed at him in awe and reverence. Alondir merely watched impassively from the side.
"I have lost my only child," Thranduil began. "Maybe not to death, but I have lost him all the same. As his King and even more so as his father, it is my duty to save him. None of you have to be here. You should be here, but it is not mandatory. It has come to my attention that some of you are unhappy with this situation. I do not care to know who, but I will say this to you all: you know the way back to the palace. If your wish is to return, then do so, and do so now. No-one will stop you. But you will lose what self-respect you had. It is the life of your Prince that is in jeopardy. I expected all of you to willingly help find him. Clearly my expectations were wrong. Now, we leave here in two minutes. Those of you who wish to return home, that is how long you have to get out of my sight."
There was silence. No-one moved. A few of the older soldiers looked as though they wanted to step forwards and defend themselves, but the burning gaze of their King stopped them even before they had started. Thranduil looked at each of the company in turn, holding their eyes with his own flashing ones until either he himself chose to disengage, or they looked away out of respect, fear or guilt.
"They will not stop searching until Legolas is safely home," Alondir said softly. "Not one of them will be returning to the palace at this time."
"No, my Lord," one of the soldiers murmured. "It pains our hearts to think of the young Prince out here. We will not forsake our honour or our duty."
"Good. It should not have come to this, and I do not wish to speak in this way to any of you again." Thranduil caught the expressions the younger Elves wore, and smiled to take the edge from his words. "And now if there is nothing else, we will move on."
"Be ready to leave in one minute," Alondir contributed quietly. "We must waste as little time as possible."
The Elven-king was still for a moment, but then he turned and swept towards Thalion, who stood at the edge of the clearing. "There is no longer a problem," he said shortly. "But I thank you for alerting me to the whisperings."
"No matter. I know that I would want to be aware of them if I was in your position," the man answered. "I am glad that you have it sorted."
"Hmm. Come, we leave now," Thranduil said quietly.
"Wait."
"What is it?"
"You and I are not enemies. We are working towards the same goal: finding Legolas and bringing him home safely. Yet the way we are together suggests that we are anything but allies," Thalion replied. He paused, and held out his right hand. "I would be happy to set aside our differences for this."
Thranduil was silent, and a humourless smile appeared on his face as he gazed down at the man's outstretched hand. "No. I do not know you. I do not like you. I do not trust you. Trust has to be earned, Thalion, before two individuals can ally themselves. Prove yourself to me, and maybe I will consider it."
"Prove myself?" the man repeated. "How might I do that?"
The Elf hesitated, struggling to hold back the words that had for so many days been present in his mind. Strong forces of hatred and anger tugged at him as he looked into the green eyes before him, and he found his thoughts suddenly being voiced. "Prove to me that you are innocent, that you were not in on Amarth's plans to take my child," he hissed. "Prove to me that you are helping us, not for your own ends, but because you genuinely fear for Legolas. You-
"You think that I knew Amarth's mind all along?" Thalion snapped. "You believe that I am as guilty as he? If that is so, why do I still live? Why am I still here?"
"Because I am waiting for you to prove yourself," Thranduil answered simply. He turned, and started to walk away. "Come."
"Wait."
"Why do you stop me now?"
Thalion stepped forwards, and stared into the Elf's silver eyes. His own were cold with barely suppressed fury. "One of these days you will find someone who resents your words, and who will not just stand idly by and listen whilst he is accused of crimes he is not guilty of. Then you will regret what you say."
"Are you implying that someone is you?"
"Maybe, maybe not," Thalion answered in a low voice. "But we will have to wait and see. Won't we?"
"I suppose we will, and I look forward to finding out," Thranduil said silkily. "Now though, there are more pressing matters to attend to. Finding my son, for instance. Unless, of course, you have anything else important to say."
"I have many other words to speak, but Legolas' safety is our priority," the man replied.
"I am glad we agree on one thing."
That said, Thranduil turned away and left the human standing alone. Green eyes flashing furiously, Thalion hissed a string of curses under his breath, unable to prevent a bubble of hatred rising up inside his chest. Hatred…that was a feeling he had not known for years. The last time it had infected him, he had seen only fourteen summers; but his young age had not prevented him from channelling that hatred towards the one who had conceived it: his father. The monstrous emotion had been let loose, and the damage it had wreaked was greater than he had ever imagined. And it had been bloody.
He could remember the blood now, spilling through his fingers as he rested a hand on his father's chest, trying to find a heartbeat. There had been one, but felt only faintly. And so, with his sister, he had run to a nearby town where he was immediately taken in by another family. The love they gave him had tamed the monster, and it had lain dormant for many years. But now as Thalion watched the Elven-king of Mirkwood speaking with Commanding Officer Alondir, he felt it awakening once more.
……………………………………………………………………………………………...
Thranduil had better watch out, that's all I can say. Anyway, a thousand apologies for the delay in updating. I tried really hard to get this chapter up for Sunday evening, but I was so tired after working all day that I had to get to bed and sleep. But it's up now, and hopefully the next one will be up on time.
Responses to reviews are on my bio page, as always!
See you on Sunday!
Misto
x-x
