A/N
Thank you again to those who so kindly commented on the last chapter and for the good wishes. I will respond to those who I can PM when I am in a slightly better place, for the moment sadness is still weighing me down. This chapter is short in part for that reason and also because it is a transition chapter in many comments are much appreciated and valued.
Doubts and choices
Spring continued gentle in the lands west of the Misty Mountains and though the days were still short they were kind and the nights were free of frost earlier than in many years. So as Elrond looked out towards the valley the vista was one of soft green dappled with butter yellow sunlight and the many pastel hues of the early flowers. He smiled softly and wondered if the weather would be so kind in the mountain pass and on the Wild lands beyond the mountains. Not that it mattered, the decision was made.
In the courtyard the bustle of last minute preparations could be heard, for even so small a retinue could not travel so far without some goods and chattels, not even elves, and certainly not when crossing the mountains. His scouts told him that the snows were already well melted and the wider passes were free from ice and debris, and since the battle of the five armies using those wider passes involved far less danger than once it would have done. He sighed as he thought of it, for Thranduils' people had paid the price of that change, just as they had for containing the shadow of Dol Guldur, a price that neither he nor Celeborn had shared. The thought made him wonder once again about his reason for travel and what type of reception he could expect. The King of Mirkwood had bid him come but that did not mean that he would be welcomed with open arms, nor had he any right to expect that he would be.
His mouth twisted in a wry smile as he looked down to his hand, no doubt Thranduil knew quite well what guarded the peace and beauty of Imladris though it never had been mentioned, nor ever would be, just as he would never mention the reason that Lothlorien shared a similar protection. But he would know and that knowing would always stand between them.
With a deep sigh he twisted the ring from his finger and set it in the box that sat open before him staring down at it for a moment with a frown. He could not take the ring from Imladris, not even now whilst peace appeared to reign. It must remain safely here for he could not risk it falling into the hands of the enemy, and the enemy was not yet defeated. But how would Thranduil interpret his leaving of it? For he could not hope that the king would be unaware of it's' absence and yet nor could he ask. This simple and necessary act could be seen as an insult of considerable proportion, particularly if it could not be openly discussed, in fact it was hard to see how it could be viewed any other way. What would that mean for his request? Standing here looking down at the ring he found himself wondering if he had the right to ask anything of Thranduil at all and if the journey was worth the risk, for risk there was even if less than before the battle for Erebor.
His thought was broken by the sound of Estels' voice calling to one of the guards and he sighed again, there was no choice, not if his vision of the future that might be proved true; if that came to pass then it was worth risking the scorn and anger of the Elvenking, for the happiness of many might hang in the balance.
With another deep sigh he closed the box and locked it and set it in the drawer beside the letter addressed to Glorfindel. The letters to his children he placed in the other drawer and locked the desk, should anything happen to him on the road Glorfindel had the spare key and would ensure that the letters were found. With one last look around the room he picked up his travelling cloak and went to join the party in the courtyard
xxx
A soft wind ruffled the leaves and grasses and above the trees a stream of hazy clouds drifted in a pale blue sky. Light danced across the glades and around the trees, sharpening the edges of the shadows beneath their branches. Out in the deepest parts of the wood where once the spiders had spun their webs the venom blackened soil were being cleansed by ant and worm and beetle and what was left was being reclaimed by moss and wild flower. The kings' magic was spreading out more widely now cleansing what the forests inhabitants could not scattering the last coils of the shadow. The streams and springs ran clear now and the sense of evil that had curled its tendrils around the trees stifling the life in them was being driven away before that enchantment like an early mist before the strengthening sun.
The elf that wandered in the sunlight was alone, his stride was long and vigorous but there was no sense of haste about his progress, in fact he stopped by many a bush and young tree to touch a leaf or stroke a flower petal. His hair was as pale as the celandine that peeped from the grass and his alabaster skin as perfect and glowing as the white bells that bloomed within the glade. His smile was soft and his eyes glowed with a light that sprang from within him, only a hint of sadness in his glance when he looked up at towering trees above him betrayed that some sorrow lurked within him.
Legolas had spent the early part of the day at the butts and the pocked marked targets reassured him that the damage to his skills wrought by the seasons upon the road was all but repaired. With a sigh of satisfaction he had gathered up the last spent arrow and turned back towards his fathers' palace and the siren call of new baked bread and the last of the autumn cheese. Spring was striding towards summer with only the odd cool mist and sudden squall of rain a testament to the stage of the seasons and this day was one in a chain of days that felt as if the shadow had never been.
The pathway to the palace was wide and well trodden and the clipped grass beneath his feet was lit by shafts of the morning sun. In the glades beyond the path spring flowers bloomed in soft shades of blues and yellows, colours that adorned his fathers crown and were echoed in his robes. He had walked down to the targets with his fathers' steward who had heard of a sighting of a particularly prized spring bloom and had gone in search of just one flower to adorn that crown. Legolas wondered briefly if he had found it as he let his fingers trail gently over a catkin string then he turned his face towards the sun and sighed with pleasure. He stood for a moment with eyes closed listening to the bird song his heart swelling with joy at the sound of it. But even in this moment that hint of sorrow fluttered in his heart for though the bird song was sweet he still could not hear the song of the forest, the voice of the trees. Something he still had not shared with his father, though there were times when he caught his father looking at him when they stood together watching the stars above the trees and wondered if his parent had deduced that was the case.
He shook the thought away and continued his journey towards breakfast.
There was no court being held today and so the palace was quiet, guards stood at their posts and housekeepers and messengers bustled about their business with an air of purpose but the paths that led across the great vault and towards the Hall of Audience were quiet. He passed the outer chamber, where on court days those wishing to speak to or set a case before the king would gather, but today the only occupants were the guards at the great wooden doors. He saluted them and continued on up the sloping walkway that led to his quarters concerned only to find Galion.
"My Lord." The voice came from behind him and he turned to face one of palace messengers, he was holding out a small packet of parchment,
"A guard returning from the garrison at Dale has brought this from another of our guards there, it is addressed to you."
Legolas felt his heart jolt for he had no doubt as to who had sent it, he was not in correspondence with any on there and official letters would go to his father or via his secretary, nor he suspected did the messenger. But his father had taught him well and no sense of his shock could be read in his face or voice as he held out his hand with a faint smile.
"Thank you, since we know its source I assume I need have no hesitation in taking it?
The messenger returned the smile.
"No my Lord, it has been passed from guard to guard, it carries no threat."
With that he headed over the small package and after a small bow turned and returned from where he came.
For a moment Legolas stood and weighted the letter in his hand wondering why she had chosen to contact him in this manner, for the guard who had sent this could only be Ariel. Perhaps she had just discovered his return for he had given no instruction that she should be informed and he doubted that his father had, but a small voice whispered that it was more likely to be related to the visit of the wizard. With a sigh he turned the packet over in his hands before he turned and headed towards his rooms.
Xxx
"You delivered the letter to my son?"
"Yes Sire as you instructed."
Thranduil inclined his head in thanks.
"Then there is nothing more for you to do on the matter."
"No my lord, do you wish your instructions with respect to Tauriel to continue unchanged?"
"Yes, there is no reason for anything to change."
"Very well my Lord."
With that the messenger inclined his head to his king and turned to resume the normal course of his duties.
Thranduil stood for a moment staring at the tapestry on the wall, he had hoped that she would make no attempt to contact Legolas until they visited Dale but he had known that Mithrandir's interrogation might spur her to earlier action and it seemed that it had. She must have known that others would report her action to him but that had not deterred her, what was it that she had felt compelled to write? He sighed, he could have read her letter before passing it on, he was within his right as king to do so, but he would never have abused his sons trust in such manner and she would have not expected that he would. Therefore he would have to wait for Legolas to tell him as much or as little as he chose. If he so chose, and given the circumstances he might not.
Thranduil sighed again, it was a pity it had come now, today, for Legolas had seemed so much recovered in spirits since they had received the wizards letter; not quite the elf he had been before Tauriel had twisted his life and his spirit but closer than he had been since he had returned home. His father hoped that whatever she had to say would not stoke the fires of his sons' guilt again for they were not yet cold, but he had no trust in that given Mithrandirs' words and all she had done before. It was very probable that she would give as little thought to the effect her words might have on Legolas now than she had to the effects of her actions on others then.
But he would be patient if they had to start again then they would do so, if it took centuries he would help his son to find himself again.
Xxx
Legolas stared out at the tree tops, the letter still in his hand and wondered what he should do. The words she had written echoed in his head as if he had heard rather than read them and he had read them so many times in the short period since he had gained the sanctuary of his rooms that he could already recite them from memory.
"My Lord I know that I have been the source of some estrangement between your self and the king, your father, and I wish you to know that such estrangement causes me much regret for it was never my desire or intention. If it is possible I would ask that you visit me in Dale so that I might explain in person how I came to follow the course I did, for though I have tried many times in the writing of this letter the words will not come when faced only with an expanse of paper. I wish I had been able to speak with you before you left after the battle but as you know that was not possible"
Legolas gave a small and bitter smile as the words ran through his head, seeing again her tears for the fallen dwarf, her grief so all encompassing that she hadn't been aware of his presence. What had she expected him to do he wondered? Return to the people he had abandoned to defend her, to argue her case with the father he had slighted and abused? Perhaps she had, perhaps she had given as little importance to his fate as she had to the life of his father. He looked down at the letter again and reread her plea, the real purpose in her writing he thought.
"I understand that you will visit with the king in the summer for the celebrations but if it can be managed I would wish that we could meet before that time for I doubt that the king will allow any contact between us if he can prevent it. Indeed I doubt the king will allow me any place in the ceremonies at all, that pain I will bear as best I may but to have to be so close to you without having had a chance to make such peace as I can will be a further hurt I would spare us both.
It is not possible that I come to the forest for that is forbidden and I am closely watched I know, but if you could find a way to visit Dale, or seek absence from your fathers Halls for a short period, I can find a place within the City or close by where we could meet for a short time without being observed.
I do not doubt that your father is aware that I have written, yet I do not think that he will read it unless you give it to him and I do not think he will demand or expect that you do so. Therefore there is no need for him to know of any meeting between us If he does then I do not doubt that he will prevent it and so I beg you not to tell him or show this letter, the rest of my words you may report as you will but this request I entreat you not to share. For the same reason I ask that when you reply you do not do so to your fathers house, there is an inn, the Rising Sun in Chandlers Street that will receive it for me, for I have done the lady of the house a Street that will receive it for me, for I have done the lady of the house a service or two and she will act as a go between in this matter."
With a sigh he put the letter down and crossed to the table pulling paper, pen and ink from the shelf above it and began to compose his reply.
