Long shadows

"You are sure it was the king's son?"
Bard stared at the man standing before him in doubt, a frown between his brows, not sure what to make of the news or whether to wish it true or false. The messenger nodded unconcerned by the frown.
"Sure enough my lord. It is true that I did not see his face clear for he were cloaked and hooded as might be expected in such unfriendly weather, but the horse was of elvish stock clear enough and he sat it as one accustomed to riding. We saw him as he skirted the forest, finding the gate can be hard, as all who travel that place know, but he made his way onto the road as if he knew it well. He carried a bow too, one clearly of elvish make. I'm an archer sir and no bow of other making can be confused with theirs."

Bard nodded slowly, debating with himself just how much trust to place on the identification.
"Aye, so I've heard. But why do you think it was prince Legolas, might it not be another elf with news for the king?"
The messenger thought for a moment then answered slowly.
"Well as to that, I cannot see how that would be for we had ridden up from the south sir and there was no sign of any trouble that would have caused the elves of Lorien to send out a messenger in such weather. As for the folk of Rivendell, the roads across the Misty mountains will be near impassable given the snow of this last month so a messenger from the far side of them seemed unlikely."
He considered the matter again then seemed to abandon any doubts he might have had.
"Besides the rider had a pair of knives crossed on his back and as I recall it the king's son was the only one to wear such weapons in such a manner."

Bard nodded and turned away to stare into the fire, the man was right enough about the knives, and about the unluckiness of a messenger travelling in such fierce storms without a very good reason. A reason of that kind would not be good news for any so perhaps it was to be hoped that it was indeed the wandering prince returned. Bard looked back to the waiting man and nodded dismissal then settled back into his chair to give the news more thought, not leastabout the implications for the people of Dale. The battle seemed long ago now, and yet some parts of it were as clear as if it had been yesterday. What could be in no doubt was the length of the shadows formed in the darkness of that day. One of which he lived with daily.

None had expected such a battle when first they set out to the mountain, but then neither had they expected the dwarves to be foolish and careless enough to wake the sleeping dragon. Though, if the truth were told, there were many amongst the men of the lake whose desire for the return of their stolen wealth would have run the risk even if they had recognised it as such. But it had been a dark day and one that followed on a day of fire and destruction beside the lake. So many lost, first to the dragon and then to the army of the shadow.

The men of the lake had accepted him as their leader after he had killed the dragon, so too had the Eleven king, something he still took great pride in, and so he had been present when the wizard spoke of Orc armies. But it had been clear that the mage knew nothing of their location or proximity, and when they broke out upon the plain was as surprised and as horrified as any, both at their coming and their number. When he and his people fell back to defend the town there had been no time to reflect on fault or future, and he had been busy just staying alive and keeping his family from harm, far too busy to know much of what was happening beyond the length of his sword. All he knew of the matters in that ruined square was what others had told him later.

The King of Mirkwood's son had arrived in Dale in the middle of the battle so the report had read, bringing with him dire news of yet another force of Orc on their way to join the current fray. He had not been there when the elf prince arrived, for which he was very glad for he did not think he could have borne the news had he heard it at that time. Already weary and outnumbered the battle had not been going well for them, and only the elvish force that had followed their king to defend the civilians in the city had prevented their wholesale slaughter. But losses had been heavy and Thranduil had been recalling his companies to regroup when the news arrived. It seemed unlikely that he had seen his son before the confrontation, if that was what it had been.

But whatever the cause Prince Legolas had been seen to leave the ruined city in some haste just after the Eagles had arrived and driven the coming force back with bill and talon. The elves and dwarves remaining on the plain had turned to hurry their retreat whilst those elves that had been fighting in Dale had gone out to clear the remnants of the first orc army. In the confusion his hurried departure had raised little comment. It was only afterwards, when the tilde of battle had ebbed, that the stories of a confrontation between the king and his son amid the dead had begun to circulate; the cause of it apparently another elf who had, so it was said, threatened the king's life.

Bard had given little thought to the departure, or credence to the stories, for they seemed so unlikely to any who knew the loyalty the elves had for their chosen Lords and their hatred for killing each other, and he had many other pressing concerns. Not least of these being the terrible meeting between Thranduil and the new king under the mountain. Knowing that he needed to live in peacewith both he had brought the two of them together inside the City walls hoping that what differences they had brought to the battlefield would have been left upon it. That had proved not to be the case for Dain had greeted Thranduil with charges of treachery new and old and of elvish enchantment, a bitterness that was apparently something to do with a dead dwarf. So great was the anger of both that it had ruined any hope for reconciliation between the elves and dwarves, for whatever the cause or detail of his grievance Dain saw in it some great dishonour engineered by the elves. Thranduil had been justifiably outraged by the claims made, for had he not just fought side by side with the dwarf lord? Dain seemed to see no such consideration and had continued his taunts much as he had out on the plain before the battle. The Elven king had kept his anger in check with the skill of one long practiced at such things, but his tight and contedptuous smile betrayed something of the rage within him. He had departed to his camp before Dain's spleen was fully vented, leaving the dwarf lord to shout curses at his back. Yet even then Bard had not connected the matter with the departure of the king's son, or with the other elf they said was involved. Only Thranduil's strange request later that same day had finally caused him to accept that there was a connection and that there must be some truth in the rumours and stories.

But it was clear within a few weeks that the prince had left that day and, as far as could be judged by those outside, he had not been back to Mirkwood since. Staring into the fire Bard wondered how he would have managed had it been his son who took such action, and in such a way at such a time. King Thranduil had shown little of what he felt about the matter but perhaps it was different when you were an immortal and had seen as many sunrises and full moons as the Elven king. Bard had long since come to understand that he would never see the world the way the Elven king did, any more than he could comprehend the length of his years when in his company. Others more learned than he had told him that Thranduil had lived all of the second age of Middle earth, and that he had fought in battles that were myth and legend to Men so long ago had they happened. Perhaps the king of Mirkwood had known the first age too, said some, like the Lady of the Wood. Not something to dwell on with when drinking wine with the object of the speculation!

As if the thought demanded action he rose and poured himself a cup of wine and then crossed to the window unlatching a shutter so that he might look out over the winter wrapped City now growing up from the ruins of Dragon fire. He hoped that the prince's return would bring no trouble or further pain for those involved, and that it would not make keeping his promise to Thranduil any harder, for keep it he was determined to do.

It was clear seven years now since the battle in the ruined streets of Dale, streets that were again lined with strong, high walls. The dead had been buried and the debris left by the dragon had been removed and now a new city was rising from the ruins, just as a new town was rising by the lake. The shadow of the dragon was fading and the people of Dale, as they now thought of themselves, like the people of the lake, had made much progress in rebuilding their lives. But none would deny that it would have been a much harder and slower business without the help of the Elven king. Dain had honoured Thorin's payment for the Arkenstone in full but beyond that he had provided little help to those ruined by the dragons awakening, being more concerned with rebuilding the dwarves ruined halls, So it had been to Thranduil they had turned for assistance once again and he had not failed them, providing them with temporary shelter in that first bitter winter, and in the year or two that followed. Many skilled elves had been sent to help in the rebuilding of both town and city and Mirkwood had provided them with building materials as well as food when they lacked it and healers for their sick and injured. Bard, knowing how great Thranduil's loss had been on that dreadful day had never really found the words to thank him or his people. The king had asked little enough in return and what he had asked for Bard was determined to provide in good measure.

Yet that little had cost Bard many a nights sleep in worrying that he might fail to live up to the challenge. Perhaps it was fortunate that dwarves rarely visited the city, it made it easier to keep track of them for having seen Dain's anger he had no doubts that Thranduil's concerns were well founded. What would happen should his son return to Dale? Though Dain's argument was not with the son it might once again draw his attention to the one who was at the root of his anger. Might it cause him to decide that pretending not to know was no longer the best course of action?

Bard stared down into the thronged streets, at stall holders calling their wares and the children playing beneath the lights of torches flickering as the first flakes of the next snow fall began to drift from the dark skies. For the moment all seemed to be at peace and the street markets were busy with people making preparations for the midwinter feast, people who for the moment had hope for their future and their children's. People who were trusting in him to sustain that peace. Most of them had little understanding of just how fragile their safety and comfort might yet prove to be. Walking the line of honouring his pledge to the Elven king, maintaining a relationship with the dwarves and also preserving the calm of his city might have become more difficult if the news were true, and there were those who needed to know of the possibility of the prince's return rather than wait for certainty.

With a sigh he closed and fastened the shutter again and then crossed to the writing table and took up pen and paper, drafting letters still did not come easily to him but fortunately this one needed no subtlety.

XXX

"Did... ". Legolas found that his lips would not frame the name "she …..return home?"
He looked towards his father with some uncertainty, wanting to know, fearful of what he might hear and yet being anxious not to seem to cast blame.
"I know that you had banished her but I do not think you would have demanded that at the end; not with the dwarf dead and her without any kin."

Thranduil shook his head and his voice was soft and laden with regret as he replied.
"No, that could not be. She could not return. Had it just been the matter of banishment I would have set it aside without hesitation but unlike you she issued a threat direct, there was no doubt of where her arrow pointed. Nor any room to doubt the meaning of her words. She considered my life expendable in pursuit of her goal."
He looked back towards the fire, sadness clearly written in his expression.
"I would not have thought it possible, but if she did not mean to kill me then what was she seeking, her death? For if she had not lived within my house, and if I had not disarmed her swiftly, that would have been her fate."

He sighed and looked back towards his son.
"You have asked me to be as truthful in this matter as I was on your fate, and so I shall be. In her case the choice is two fold and both deadly, either she was of our realm and so committed treason, or she was no longer of our realm and so a mercenary assassin. I have no doubts how our law givers would find on ether count. As for my intervening to sway the verdict, well I have already told you I could have done little for you had you committed such an act, I could do even less for her given what had gone before."
Legolas returned the look with grief and uncertainty in his eyes.
"But she is not dead, or so I take your words to mean. That being so what has happened to her? Have you abandoned her to wander where she can? You have not given leave for any to pursue her?"
"No I have not, though there are those who would if I allowed it. I have done the best for her that I can, given her actions, without causing wider harm and distress. She has not returned, but do not fear that she is wandering the Wild alone and friendless. She is safe, unharried and under my protection as far as I can manage it. Those she is entrusted to will do their best to honour their pledge to me and keep her from harm while she remains with them. However the time is coming when she will need to go elsewhere but I promise youthat I will find a place for her that is safe."
He gave a small shrug.
"Provided she behaves wisely and does as I have instructed that is. I have not spoken with her since that day, it seemed better that way, but she knows my will. If she sets that aside then she must bear the consequences. But I do not think she will disobey this time for, from the reports, I think that she begins to see the turmoil she has brought about and regrets it. Even if she does not where else could she go?"
He looked away towards the fire with another sigh.
"But I fear that however many centuries pass she cannot return here."

"So, it must be banishment after all."
Despite his best intentions Legolas heard a hint of bitterness creep into his tone and he cursed himself silently as he saw the look of sadness settle once more upon his father's face amd wishing to dispel that look he hurried into speech again.
"I do not wish to complain at her treatment for I know the seriousness of her actions; it just grieves me that she has lost her home too, having already lost her family."
His expression of sadness intensified as Thranduil looked down into his wine and he spoke so softly that only elvish ears could have heard.
"I had thought we were her family but it seems that was not the case, for she put us aside easily enough. Nor do I have any doubt that in that moment she wished my death."
He took a sip of wine then looked back towards his son.
"But do not think I would allow that hurt to weight with me if I could find a way for it to be different. Even though she clearly feels no loyalty towards me I have forgiven her and mean her no harm."
He leaned forward and refilled his wine cup as he continued.
"But harm would have come upon her had I allowed her to return and for many reasons, not least because of her championship of the dwarves. Nor could I be sure my will would provide her safety, I do not think any would raise a hand to harm her directly but the forest can be a dangerous place even for an elf, all it would have required would be for others to turn away when that danger threatened."

Legolas looked at his father with distress.
"Would they hate one of their own so much?"
The desire not to believe it rang clear and strong in his voice but Thranduil met his look without flinching. Though he knew the pain and fear that must lie behind the question he had promised honesty and truth and that was what there would be.
"Her name is never mentioned, except as a curse by some she served with, though I have let it be known that I do not favour such attitudes. She drew arms on me Legolas and as I have told you there are those that would have had me bring her here and put her on trial for her actions, others still who consider her banishment irrevocable and so would see her executed as a foreign assassin."
He saw a look of horror bloom in his son's eyes and felt a stab of sorrow, for it was clear that the other still viewed the matter only through the veil of his own fondness, but if he was to return home and find peace he must be brought to an understanding of the wider concerns Though there could be no doubt that he would find it hard.
"You must see it through other's eyes if you are to understand. She was not a maid or a farmer or even a healer, she was a captain in the guard Legolas, with responsibilities for those she commanded," his tone was gentle but the words were uncompromising, "yet she demanded that I risked more of our blood to warn just one when many were dying around her. When she did not get her way she threatened me and therefore our Realm."

He saw Legolas shift uneasily in his chair and raised a hand to ensure his silence, now they had embarked upon this matter that held so much distress for them both it was better that it was taken to its full conclusion quickly.
"If she had gone to Ravenhill alone when she heard the news, had risked her own life to warn the dwarf, it might have been forgiven, or at least gone unremarked. There was nothing to prevent her doing so as far as I can judge, she heard of the matter upon her arrival within the city, before I knew of it. I had not commanded that she might not go, and I doubt that you had, who else was there to prevent her? Mithrindir? He wanted the dwarves warned too and would surely have encouraged her had she shown any sign of setting off to carry such a warning. As for the urgency, she could have reached Ravenhill as easily alone as with a company beside her, more so perhaps; and yet she made no attempt to do it, instead waiting to waylay me and demanding other lives be risked instead. This she did before my guard who had been fighting in the streets, seeing their comrades fall, not long before."
He shook his head slightly.
"That could never have been hidden Legolas. Few who lost loved ones that day would forgive it."

Legolas made no response and as the silence lengthened the king looked away towards the shadows, seeing in them memories of the past. Terrible memories of greed and treachery and death. Memories he would spare his Realm and his son if any vigilance of his could do so.
"There are those here who remember with some personal bitterness the reasons for our distrust of the dwarves, and they have just cause. Were she to return I doubt she would respect that cause."
His expression took on a reflective note.
"Some of the fault in this is mine Legolas; and I admit it freely. I gave her preferment before her time. She fought well and valiantly and I thought I saw in her a maturity and clear sight that events have shown to be lacking."
For a moment there was more silence but for the cracking of the burning wood upon the fire as the king recalled the days immediately before the march to Dale, Legolas waited, wondering what was coming next until the king continued his tone still thoughtful.
"I should have seen my fault sooner, though I confess that I had begun to wonder about her judgement before I first saw the danger of the dwarf. When she would have killed the orc in anger I knew my error but I was granted no time to repair it. Though my own killing of the creature would have made it hard to justify punishing her," his voice dropped to a whisper and it seemed as if a great weight descended upon him as he recalled that moment.

Legolas would have liked to ask more about that, for he wondered many times in the days that followed what had caused his father to do such a thing, but after a second or two Thranduil seemed to push the memory away and the moment was lost as he continued.
"I valued her mother's mother as few others, she stood within my guard at the last alliance and her skill protected me often. When I fell the first time it was she who stood over me with bow and knife and gave me time to regain enough of my senses to escape the creatures of the dark."
He looked at his son with a soft smile of happy memory.
"When she found her one I danced with great joy at her joining. A sad day it was when the call awoke in her and she left to join the ships." The smile died. " When her daughter's daughter was left alone I never considered any option but to take her into my house. Perhaps I was wrong to do so, or perhaps I was too indulgent, and convinced myself that I saw her mother's mother in her, discerned qualities that were not there. In time I think they would have come but she was more impulsive and naïve than I let myself see. I had hoped,... well that does not matter and I knew that before she left."

For a moment there was silence again, both of them lost in memory, then the king turned his eyes back towards the fire.
"So for the moment she remains in Dale and under the protection of Bard; though it would not be wise to speak of that outside this room, given that many travel to Dale these days."
Legolas wondered why her presence in Dale was something he should not speak of but pushed the thought aside for his father was still speaking.
"She holds a post as a guard to my representatives there, and with trade growing and the increased movement of people it is not considered strange that elves remain within the city. She is not the only one and so her presence is not so very remarkable. Only the very observant would notice that she of them all never returns to the forest."

Thranduil leant forward and picked up the wine jug reaching forward to fill his son's empty wine cup before rising to hand it to him, fingers closing firmly around the hand that took it. He regarded at his son with tilted head and questioning look.
"So, not truly banished, and safe enough, but not allowed back. What did you expect Legolas? That you would return here and find her commanding the guards at the gate? You must know that could not be so."
Legolas shook his head and looked back at his father steadily.
"No, and I confess my fears of the outcome have been far greater."
"As I said I have let no harm come to her. I have chosen her companions carefully and they know my will and will obey it."
"But she can never return. Our people will never forgive?"
The king sighed again.
"Many died Legolas. At such times compassion for transgressors can be thin."

Legolas set his wine cup down with a snap.
"So they will forgive me but not her? Why, because I am your son? For love of you? Or simply because I am a prince not a guard? Despite the years that you sheltered and protected her? Does my position as your son mean so much?"
The tone of his voice was harsh with anger. Thranduil released his hand and turned away seating himself again in his carved chair beside the fire.
"The cases are not at all the same as we have already discussed," weariness was creeping into his voice, "and if you do not understand that then I needs explain it more plainly, for should it fall that you come to sit in my place then you must show judgement without favour."
He paused for a moment to marshal his thoughts, wondering how best to present the case to his troubled son.
"You left your comrades it is true but it was to protect her, another of your kin, and you asked no one else to join you in the matter. She demanded that I sent her comrades to certain and pointless death in vain pursuit of her own desires. When her wishes were denied she threatened the life of her King. Had she not had the years of my protection then she would have been dead in snow once she drew the arrow."
Legolas sighed and inclined his head.
"I understand her crimes and the magnitude of them." He drew a deep breath, "and I understand what would have happened had you not disarmed her when you did and accept the rightness of it."
Thranduil looked at him without expression.
"So tell me then, do you truly not understand why you may return and yet she may not?"

Legolas looked up to meet his father's eyes.
"Yes. I know it. First born we may be but the answer here is no different to what it would be in Gondor or Rohan or for any of the sons of men. Nor would it be different for the dwarves. Not even those who died on Ravenhill, they followed their king and kin and never doubted the rightness of it. None of them would have demanded her action nor condoned it if they had seen it. She betrayed her oaths of loyalty at a time of battle and there is no forgiveness for that."
He looked towards his father with an almost pleading expression.
"But she loved the dwarf. Is that not some defence?" He snatched up his cup and stared down into his wine keeping his voice steady only with some effort. "Will they not see that and forgive her enough for her to return in safety? Can you not make them see?"
"No." Thranduil's voice was low and gentle again. "It would make no difference even if I could do it. But I cannot make them see what I do not believe to be the truth."

Legolas felt a shiver of shock, and disbelief etched his voice as he replied.
"Would she have risked so much for anything else? You think she was mistaken and that she did not love him?"
"I am sure of it, though I confess that I spoke differently to her after your leaving."
"Why?"
"For your sake, and because it seemed a pointless cruelty to do otherwise when her distress at that moment was real enough. The dwarf was dead and the matter was ended, it could do no harm to any other and I hope my words gave her some comfort. But the time will come when she will know the truth and that may be more painful still. Even if she could return it may be that she would not wish to be here when she discovers her mistake."
Legolas did not know whether to feel elation or despair, that so much had been destroyed for an illusion or that perhaps his hopes need not be set aside. The uncertainty was clear in his face and voice as he replied.
"You are so sure? That she was mistaken."

Thranduil read his son's feeling easily and smothered a sigh, knowing then that the pain was not yet over. He spoke slowly, picking his words with care once more.
"I have seen love Legolas, and have come to recognise it and its looks, love of many kinds. I have seen it dawn fierce and frightening in a parent on seeing their new born child, I have seen it between comrades in arms on the eve of battle knowing they will live or die together when dawn comes. I have seen love appear like the sun suddenly and unexpectedly emerging from the clouds between two who have known each other centuries and watched it grow slowly from a seed sowed between two playing children. I know the looks of love my son; a king must learn to read people's faces and their hearts if he is not to become a tyrant."
He watched the blue eyes meeting his with such painful effort and wondered if he could ever tell his son what he suspected, for he had spoken no less than the truth when he had said he understood the many forms and looks of love. But if he ever could then that day was far away. For the moment he would offer another reason and one that might yet prove to be the case.
"It was not love that she felt, at least not for the dwarf. For love itself perhaps. For the idea of being in love, for a vision of herself in love even. But not love for the dwarf and in time she will know that."

Legolas looked away then, turning his gaze to the shifting snow shadow beyond the parapet.
"I wondered that it happened so quickly." He said slowly. "A word or two, a look exchanged, a little story telling perhaps, but nothing more, how could there have been when he was locked away? How can that create a love that would cause you to deny your kin?"
The tone of his voice betrayed a tightening of his throat but his eyes were dry and steady. His father regarded him with understanding of the things that were not being said and answered gently.
"It cannot, unless you are chosen of the Gods perhaps and marked for special joy or tragedy." He gave a wry smile, "I see no God's hand in this matter. Had Sauron himself been involved in the fight perhaps I might see it differently but I do not think that this was an occasion intended to create great legends and songs."
Thranduil reached forward and took a nut from the tray and his voice took on a dry and ironic tone.
"Had it been so I would have expected Mithrandir to have shown more interest in the matter!"
Legolas looked back to him with a puzzled frown.
"Why?"
The king waved his hand in an elegant gesture of dismissal.
"He is a wizard, and whilst I welcome him to my halls with pleasure whenever he should chose to visit it is the case that in recent years he usually appears when something that might be the matter for great story telling is afoot."
He gave his son a droll look as he peeled a pine nut.
"A doomed and unlikely love created by the gods between an elf and dwarf who are strangers and set against the background of the return of the forces of darkness would seem to be grand tragedy on the scale that might warrant his attention. Were it to be so."

For the first time since the parting on Ravenhill Legolas laughed in unfeigned amusement at the absurdity of the vision his father created. But the feeling faded as quickly as it had come and his reply was sombre.
"But perhaps I should be affronted then. If it were as you describe then my case would not be so pitiable."
A look of sorrow crossed the king's face.
"Not pitiable Legolas, never think that I would see it as that. Unfortunate, mistaken and sad maybe, but never pitiable."
"And others?"
"Few know much of it, only those who stood with me at that moment, and they will not speak of it."
"For love of you?"
The king nodded.
"Yes for love of me, for most of them have stood beside me in many battles, but more for their love of our realm and its people. You are their Prince Legolas and they will defend you where they can. It is the age of the world and will be for some time to come. Perhaps there will come an age when it is not so, when the nature and judging of duty may be softened, but that time is far away."
For a moment Legolas was silent and then he gave a twisted smile.
"If she did not truly love the dwarf then do you think that in time her heart may open to others?"

Thranduil felt a wave of despair wash over him for though the words were light in tone there was no mistaking the look of sudden hope that accompanied them, it seemed that his son's pain was a long way from being behind him. He could only be glad that matters had gone no further than they had when the dwarf came Perhaps he should tell Legolas the full truth of the hopelessness of it, but now it came to the moment when he might he found that he couldn't do it. There had been enough pain and grief for one winter's night let it end now. Yet he could not let that look go without some response, some warning not to hope for what could not be gained.
"Perhaps, in time, but not to anyone she knows as yet. All others must always be a part of something she will wish to forget."

Let him make of that what he would, in time he may need to know the sorry details but for now let the matter rest.

He took another tartlet from the tray and bit into it thoughtfully, Legolas clearly needed some occupation and one that would take him out amongst the people of the forest and with no reason to talk of dragons or war. Something to keep him away from any pull of Dale too. Thranduil suppressed a smile, the midwinter feast was nearly upon them and there was much to do, between writing his report and hauling logs for the fires it shouldn't be too difficult to ensure he had no time to brood. If that wasn't effort enough he would send him out with the parties to find the kissing bough, not seen during the days of the spiders but now reported as growing within the glades again. He shot his son a sly glance remembering his own efforts on such forays, yes that should keep him occupied.