Rendezvous

On the fourth day after they made camp at the edge of the forest Legolas was woken just after dawn by the raucous call of a raven. He staggered out of his tent rubbing his eyes and slipping on the frosty ground halting abruptly as he came eye to beady eye with the large black bird that had settled itself upon the tent rope.

He looked at it for a long moment in uncertainty for the bird's near unblinking gaze seemed to carry some meaning, and after a second or so of silence he moved closer to it and said softly.
"Yes? You have some business with me bird of the high trees?"

The raven cocked its head and cawed at him. Legolas swallowed, for here was another and unexpected reminder of the things that he had lost. Once, in the time before the battle in Dale, this bird's thoughts' would have been open to him and now they were not. The realisation stung his soul and stirred the dark imp within him but he closed his mind to the pain and distress, he would not dwell on this reminder of his further loss when it was clear a message was being delivered, and one that might be of some importance. With a slight sigh he bowed his apology to the bird and called out to the guard captain who had just appeared from out of the shadows.
"It is clear this is a messenger but I seem to have lost my understanding of their dialect in my time in the wider world for I cannot resolve the message." He said to her with a soft smile.
The smile was returned.
"Not surprising my lord for this one is young and has only ever conversed with your father and his guard, but I will see if I can speak with it if you wish it?"
"Please do," he sighed ruefully, "it would seem that I have forgotten many things in my time upon the road, short though it was."

The guard captain moved closer to the bird and met its' gaze as it tilted its head towards her.
"I think I read the message, though like you I find the structure of the meaning strange
"So what, then, is it trying to tell us?"
She looked back to Legolas.
"If I read it aright, then your father and his company have been delayed by two days, I can not read why, if indeed the bird knows the reason, but they expect to be turning onto the road home within the next day. The king wishes to know if there have been any delays with our company or whether we are ready to return also."
Legolas smiled and bowed to the bird who was carefully watching the exchange between the two elves, its head turning from one to the other with a glimmer of purple on its black plumage as it did so.
"We are ready." He said and wondered if the bird would understand him.

It seemed that it did for it fixed its yellow eyes upon him for a moment and then it bowed to him and gave a short call before gathering itself up and spreading its' wide purple wings. Then the bird rose up into the air, for a moment it seemed to hover above Legolas as if committing him to memory before it climbed quickly, wheeling north towards the direction of his father's party.

Legolas watched it go for a moment and then he turned towards the guard captain.
"I think we take that as meaning the message is on its way. After breakfast we will break camp and head towards the elven road and the meeting with the King's party."
She smiled and bowed slightly.
"Yes my Lord, and from there home. If the remaining spider nests are as empty as those we have seen so far, we will back at the palace by the new moon."
Legolas's smile widened.
"Just in time for the last feast day of the winter; that should please Galion."
"Yes my Lord and many of our own party too."
He shot her an enquiring glance and she smiled and shrugged.
"More than one of our number have intentions to stand before your father at the spring kissing bough, at such times returning home quickly is more than usually important."
He laughed and nodded.
"Then let us hope that our message is safely on its way and that nothing happens to further delay my father."

XXX

The sun was showing a hazy gold above the black fingers of the winter trees when the raven returned to Thranduil's camp. The Elvenking had already seen the Easterlings despatched towards the river toll with their escort and he was sat in his carved chair, not yet in armour, with a platter of honeyed bread and water before him on a map strewn table. The bird flew low through the camp and into the tent through the flap that had been left open for that purpose and alighted upon the pile of books that anchored the corner of the map nearest to the king.

Thranduil looked up from his study and smiled, then sitting further back into his chair he met the bird's yellow gaze.
"Well? Do you have an answer for me?" He asked softly.
The raven tossed its head and cawed. He leaned forward to better look into its eyes for a moment before he sat back again with another satisfied smile.
"Good."
Then as suddenly as it had dawned his smile dimmed and uncertainty flitted across his face; the bird seemed to feel it, and what lay behind the new expression, for it hopped forward and rubbed its beak against the hand that rested upon the maps giving a gentle caw as it did so. Thranduil raised that hand and with one finger gently stroked the blue black plumage.
"Do you have more that you can tell me my friend? What of Legolas himself? You are young it is true but you have seen enough of elves to read the feelings of his mind and heart, if not the thoughts that lie behind them." He asked quietly.

The bird raised its head and turned to look at him before laying it against the outstretched hand again. Thranduil relaxed and let his mind open further to accommodate the message the bird offered. The bird did not see the world as an elf did but it could read the shapes of the feelings that elf was wrapped in and see too the shape it made as it moved through the world. Thranduil concentrated on the picture he was being shown, the picture of the world as it existed around his son and how it flexed with the light streaming out from him. As he let the image of his son as the bird had seen him form he felt a sense of warmth as some of his own fears were banished. There was no well of grief there, no pit of despair, no tears or overbearing sorrow, the bird had felt no darkness around his son, other than some lingering uncertainty and a slight shadow that seemed contained within a growing light.

He drew a deep breath and inclined his head towards the raven.
"Thank you my friend. Perhaps we make progress and the bitter cold retreats. It remains to be seen if it is truly the first shoots of a new spring, but let us hope so."
The bird spoke again and once more rubbed its head again the Elvenking's hand. Thranduil smiled again and stroked the feathered head one more time before reaching forward to take a sliver of meat from a platter he had had brought to his tent for the purpose, he offered it to the bird with a respectful inclination of his head. It took it with great courtesy and delicacy, as it took every other slice that was offered to it until the platter was empty. Then it carefully wiped its beak on its folded wing and looked back at the Elven king in expectation.

He inclined his head towards it.
"Go in peace then," he told it softly, "and return to your nest and your mate before the chill deepens again."
With another bow and a short call of farewell the bird took wing and glided out of the tent, through the camp and up towards the tree tops.

Thranduil rose and went to issue the order to prepare to move before returning to his tent and resuming his seat and his scrutiny of the maps. The line of spider nests that still remained to be checked ran through the middle of the forest to the side of the elf road and up to the edges of the forest river, and these had been some of the nests most quickly deserted. He hoped that remained the case and that the inspections could be concluded without incident or delay, in which case they could be home before the new moon. He had no real doubt that this would prove true for these were the nests closest to the lands he had held against the shadow and his influence had spread quickly once Sauron had left Dol Gulder.

As Legolas and his company had not been delayed he could hope that the areas towards the mountains were also clear of the shadow and that the forest would continue to recover from the darkness. If his son was also finding his sense of himself again then there was much to be grateful for.

Not all danger was passed on either count however for the darkness might yet return to Dol Gulder as Sauron grew stronger, particularly if he despatched one of his dark servants to take residence there. As for the road home, the nests before them were those closest to where the dwarves of Thorin's company had been captured and so might carry hidden dangers for his son. He could not be sure what this last stage of the journey would mean for Legolas's mood or for others of the company.

For, whilst much progress had been made, there were still those amongst his people who would not yet forgive his son. Though he did not fear Legolas's physical safety he remained uncertain of how well his strength of mind would cope with unkind words or challenges despite the brave messages of the raven.

It had been brought home to him before they had set out that there were those in the wider population of Mirkwood for whom the wounds of Legolas's conduct ran deep. When one of his equerry had come to him and reported that two of those allocated to Legolas's party had requested that they be excused the duty. He had pressed for their reasons with some inward trepidation but if their commander had seen it he gave no sign, just reported that he too had wondered at the request and had asked to know the reasons. Having heard them out their commander had reallocated them to the king's party but had felt it right that the king should know.

It seemed that the two had been amongst those who fought in the streets on the outskirts of Dale and had see Legolas pass by them on the way to Ravenhill; at a time that he had passed been particularly hard pressed and though Legolas had despatched one of the creatures that assailed them as it crossed his path he had continued following of Tauriel. The two elves in question had seen this and could not understand why he had done so, or forgive him for it. The death of Bolg had convinced them of the value of his actions and reconciled them to his actions to some degree, but they had lost close friends at that time of the battle and the grievance was not resolved sufficiently for them to wish to risk their lives in his company.

In that moment Thranduil's heart had been torn, whilst he was glad that his soldiers had felt able to make such a request he was also deeply sad that they had the wish to. He had agreed to the change of rosta, and he had made no attempt to discover who these elves were, but it had caused him to wonder if he had underestimated the extent to which knowledge of Legolas's actions had spread, and the degree of bitterness that might be festering still. No, the danger was not yet passed and he would not be truly easy about Legolas until they were once more within his Halls.

But there was nothing that he had not done that he could do in the matter, he would not send his son back into the wilderness and so he must trust to the kindliness of his people and his own vigilance. Legolas's willingness to resume past activities and so be seen to commit himself to the people of Mirkwood once more would be vital. There was no reason to doubt that commitment would be forthcoming, for his son wanted to reclaim what he had lost so very much. If challenged he had no doubts that Legolas would freely admit his fault without excuse and as long as he would do that in time all but the most grievously wronged would forgive. It could have been worse; indeed for a while he had feared that it was.

"My Lord?"
A voice close to him broke the chain of thought and he turned to see Feren beside him.
"Are we ready to leave?" he asked.
"Not quite, some of the remaining supplies are being re-packed to accommodate the reduction in the number of carts. But we will be soon."
"Good, if the weather is kind we should be at the gate by the third sundown."
"Yes Sire, do you wish us to leave a rider here in case of messages from the men of the Lake or Dale?"
Thranduil shook his head.
"No, there is no need. I expect no reply before we reach home. If one comes sooner the Easterlings will remain at the toll until it reaches me. Continue packing and send Galion to me."
"My Lord." The elf lord bowed slightly and strode away.

Thranduil watched him go with a slight look of sadness. His equerry was one of those who would never entirely forgive Legolas, and perhaps with good cause, but he had a kindly spirit and would not make his distrust uncomfortably obvious and should the day come when his son's life depended upon Feren's aid he had no doubt that it would be given. There was little else he could in fairness ask.

With a sigh he went to ready himself for the ride to the meeting place.

XXX

Three days of easy travel brought Legolas and his company to the appointed meeting point just south of the entrance to the elven road. The weather was still bitter and snow continued to drift across the flat lands from both north and west. To avoid the worst of it they sheltered within the fringes of the forest where their horses could find refuge from the knife edged wind. They knew it would at least two days before the king's party could arrive and, if the snow further north increased, then it might be longer still, but with supplies running low they hoped not. Elves might cope with short rations but their horses would find it harder. Many of the supply wagons were empty now and so they did not pitch tents instead huddling down within the carts to rest and talk and sing songs of home and spring.

Spring! Looking around him Legolas could not see any sign of it but he knew that it was no longer distant. One more cycle of the moon and the sun would warm, the ice would start to melt and the freezing fogs would be replaced by gentler mists, then the canopy of bare black branches above them would sprout green and yellow and silver. Then more his people would move out of the Kings Halls and back to their houses within the forest and the songs would echo through the trees again and wind their way through the breezes in the tree tops. The thought brought a smile to his lips and stoked the warming light within him.

But spring would also mean the need to visit the men of the lake and Dale, and the thought of that city could still wrap a chill around his heart. But no so deep a chill as it had been. Even the thought of seeing her didn't carry the same rush of grief that once it had, the grief that he had thought would never leave him. Deep within him the imp still struggled but with every day that passed its struggles grew weaker and it became easier to force it to be silent. Yet in that same deep place he knew that some sliver of hope remained, some wild belief that she would forget the dwarf and put aside whatever feelings she had for him. Yet even that hope was fading and with remarkably little pain, though it was not yet gone and there was still a wistful tug when he thought of her as he had last seen her on Ravenhill.

Which was why Legolas left the camp alone early on the second day of the encampment and walked north through the tree line towards the elven path. To his left the open land stretched out towards the swollen river and the mountains, still topped with snow and wreathed in black cloud that did not bode well for the weather later in the day, and to his right the bare black branches of the trees moved restlessly in the wind. Behind them lay the last spiders nests to be checked but in the early light there was no sign of the unnatural shadow that had lain across the forest at this point before Sauron was banished.

They were camped not half a mile for the entrance to the elven path and it took him no time at all to cover the ground and find himself standing at the point where the path met the plain.

For a moment he hesitated, wondering if it would not be better if he turned around and returned the way he came, but he knew that was not true. When his father arrived both parties would enter the forest by this gate and it was better that any lingering grief he might feel was faced before that moment arrived. So he drew a deep breath and turned his back on the river and looked inwards towards the forest. If what they had said had been the truth then this was where Thorin and his company had come into his father's realm, and it was here that Mithrendir had left them to set off for his fateful appointment at Dol Guldar. It was here that they had been warned to stay on the path and to avoid the enchanted river, warnings they had ignored. How far from here they had been when they first strayed from the path he could not know but it was here that their trespass began.

After his time in the wider word, brief though it had been, he no longer wondered why his father had been so concerned at their arrival, so determined to know their purpose. Now he saw that as his father's power protected their borders from the reality of the strengthening shadow so he must have felt the shifting of the world as the evil in the south grew. In such a situation any strange event or unexpected traveller would have been met with the same caution. If only Thorin or his company had been honest about their purpose, polite even, but they had not. The arrogance of dwarves was well known and it seemed that Thorin in particular had possessed that vice, for he had been both surly and obstructive. After his eavesdropping on the mountain road Legolas was willing to accept that his own conduct might have played some part in their hostility but he knew that there had been more to it than that. For though he had not been present when Thorin and his father met he had heard the whispers amongst the guards of the dwarf's rant, for that was how they described it, the dwarf shouting and cursing though they knew nothing of what was said. Legolas had never managed to discover the truth of it either, for when he had asked about the substance of the confrontation his father had become tight lipped and silent merely waving his questions about Thorin's taunts away with the remark that it was of no importance.

The only answer he had got was a single cryptic comment after the others were taken and that was to the effect that they would do well to reconsider their plans as their association with Thorin would do them no good for he would no doubt succumb to dragon sickness if he managed to get into the mountain, as he was already mad. Though however pressed to explain his father had refused to be drawn on what he meant by mad.

Now little of that seemed to matter, from what his father had told him it seemed that Thorin had indeed succumbed to dragon sickness, willing to wage an unnecessary war in his lust for gold. Not even the claims of the men of Dale and the Lake, just as they were, had not swayed him from his belligerent posture and the matter could never have ended well, for Thorin had been ready to become the thief that Bard had suggested. The coming of the dark army had saved his honour and allowed him to redeem his name, for in the end he had fought and died bravely enough to wipe out all other memories. Now he was buried as a king within his mountain and no doubt sat with honour and dignity amongst his brethren in whatever Halls of waiting were reserved for his kind. Legolas looked up at the grey sky with its threat of more snow and drew a deep breath, he regretted the manner in which he had addressed the dwarves when they were taken now, but there was little he could do to change it. However the ways of Eru could not be understood by those within the world and perhaps he and Thorin might meet again at the end of the world and make whatever peace remained to be made.

Legolas stepped further into the trees, forcing away the grief at theor silence and rejection of him, and wondered how different things might have been had the dwarfs never come to Mirkwood, would the shadow still be retreating or was the price of their respite always destined to be the losses at the Lonely Mountain? But he knew there was no point in such thoughts and it was becoming easier to discipline them and so he pushed them away and thought instead about where this road led to and of the coming spring.

How long he stood and drifted in formless thoughts he did not know, but a sudden gust of wind pulled at his cloak and he looked out to see the dark clouds closing quickly upon the forest, another snow storm was on its way. With a sigh he pulled up his hood and began the walk back towards the camp.

XXX

The sun was just starting to fall into afternoon when the lookout called out his sighting of the king's party. Legolas had been updating the maps of the south but at the shout he threw down his pen and hurried out.
"How far?" He called up to the sentinel.
"An hour or so's march my lord."

Legolas smiled and set to climbing the nearest tree to see for himself. Sure enough his father's party was advancing at a brisk pace along the edge of the forest, the king's banners fluttering in the wind beside his father and the banners of the Mirkwood companies strung out behind him. They wore battle armour rather than forest armour and the sun struck gold off the helmets and breastplates of the advancing column. But their pace was easy as if nothing had caused them trouble and the kings guard were strung out behind him rather than at his side as might have been expected had conflict been anticipated.

Yet a sudden cloud seemed to cross the sun as Legolas realised that his father's company appeared demised and that both horses and carts were missing. Fear clutched at him as he watched the approaching column, had his father found spider nests that were occupied, had more of his people been lost to the shadow? But why in the north when the south, though closer to the sources of the darkness, was clean? Or had the weather taken them? The broken land between the forest and the mountains to the north could be treacherous in winter with bitter winds carrying heavy snow sweeping down from the peaks even into early spring. His father seemed unharmed, riding as one accustomed to the saddle, and there was no sense of urgency about their approach, but even so he was sure that not all who had left with the king were returning.

Sudden panic took him, was it truly his father at the head of the line, or had he mistaken it? Surely the Valar would not be that cruel as to take his father to Mandos before his son had had the chance to ease the pain and grief that he had caused and to show that he had truly returned? He turned and quickly climbed higher staring intently at the advancing elven company, shading his eyes with his hand, watching for the glint of light upon the diadem about his father's head that would tell him that the king was still leading the line. Finally he saw the lead rider turn his head to say something to an elf lord behind him and relief flooded Legolas for the easy grace of the gesture was as characteristic of his father as his height and the long pale hair. It was indeed Thranduil riding his great black horse, foolish to have feared that it would not be.

As the sun moved and the clouds built up from the east Legolas continued to sit in the trees and watch the column coming closer. Now he was sure that some were missing, though maybe not so many as he had first feared and there was now no doubt that his father was riding as if whole and unharmed. Legolas sent a silent prayer of thanks for that and another in the hope that those missing were similarly hale and healthy where ever they might be.

Finally as they entered the last straight he slid down to the ground and made his way to the road.

The line had halted at the agreed meeting point and many of his own party had come out from the camp to bid them welcome. Elves milled in all directions, some taking horses away to be fed and brushed down, others still mounted leaning from their saddles to grasp hands with friends or relatives. Quiet joy and laughter was all around him as Legolas made his way through the throng towards the royal banner, noting as he did that more than one he knew was missing and that at least one of the king's guards was nowhere to be seen. Anxiety hit him again, for what could have happened that would have taken one of his father's elf lords from his escort but battle? Yet there was no sign of grief or loss amongst the arriving company, so perhaps there had been an accident of some form, but so many of them? For at least ten he knew well were not amongst the arrivals. But the thought was pushed away as he saw his father look around him, a hint of satisfaction on his face, Legolas hurried towards him without further thought.

Thranduil remained mounted as those around him clasped hands and shoulders in the joy of reunion, looking about him with quiet satisfaction. Those elves of Legolas's party who had come out to greet them were in good spirits with no sign of dark stories to tell or grief to share, no shadow hung about them and their relief, as solid as a wall, was for those returning safely not for a desperate need for reinforcements. On this first sight all appeared to have gone well. So it seemed likely that the southern lands had seen no return of the darkness or its emissaries. As for Legolas himself, there he was, whole and hale, another source of joy, however as he watched his son approach and noted his frown his heart sank. Much could have happened on the road to drive him back into the pit of despair. What had he returned to, what problems waited for them now?

Yet as his son made his way through the milling elves the frown seemed to fade a little; and as he came closer still the king decided that he was composed enough and that the light of him was stronger than any time since he had returned home. Despite that the anxiety was clearly written in his face and there was tension in his stance.

Then Legolas was beside his father, his hand upon the bridle causing his horse to toss his head in protest. Before the king could do more than give his son a searching look the words were pouring out.
"We heard of the delay but were given no reason for it, now I see that not all of your company are here, have you met with trouble? Are there nests re-populated or did you come upon wandering Orc?"
A flood of relief ran through the king, for it seemed that Legolas's discomfort was not on his own count but for the party arriving. He smiled and shook his head then he dismounted and put his hand upon his son's shoulder.
"Nothing so dire, the weather was not kind it is true and there was another small disturbance to be managed but I will tell you of that later. For the moment let us make camp and refresh ourselves and then you and I can talk."

Legolas smiled his renewed relief, his hand coming up to grip his father's fingers.
"Good news then, I feared worse when I first saw the line. We have a fire and wine already warming for it looks as if the snow is not yet finished with us."
Thranduil gazed upwards noting the thickening cloud with a slight frown, he gave his son a rueful look.
"Nor does it and the wind becomes more spiteful. So lead us to this warmed wine of yours and tell me of your news."