I hesitate outside the door, hit by a sudden attack of nerves. What if I can not do this? But Legolas is beside me, his arm around my waist and he propels me forward.
"There is nothing to worry about," his whispers in my ear, "Faramir, you know and Aragorn and Arwen are not that frightening. I promise you. And the Elrondionath may glare a lot but their bark is worse than their bite."
"They are here?" I cry in horror, "Why did you not tell me?"
"Because you would react like this," he smiles, "And now you have no time to worry on it." And he opens the door.
The room, which had been filled with casual chatter falls silent as all faces turn look at us, stood, as we are, in the doorway and the King leaps to his feet.
"Legolas!" To me he does not seem pleased. "I told you to rest!"
But Legolas is unfazed, he simply bows politely. I can feel his hand in the small of my back, holding me up.
"I have rested Aragorn, and now I am here."
Elessar sighs heavily and rolls his eyes,
"A few hours is not what I meant."
"But I was hungry." Legolas says, and he is earnest, like a child, but I know he is teasing, I can see the light in his eyes. He is in a dangerous mood.
"I was about to send food to your room."
"And now you do not have to bother." He steers me to a chair and we sit, and all the while, he is smiling at Elessar, a guileless smile, butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. What is he up to?
"Are you not pleased to see me?" He tilts his head to side as if he is genuinely confused. I know he is not.
The King gives up. It is obvious he will get no sense out of Legolas, he turns his attention to me instead and despite myself I feel the flush of red creep over my cheeks.
"Forgive me," he says, " This is most rude of me. Welcome..." And I realise he does not know my name.
"Maewen," Legolas pipes up beside me. "I have been remiss, I have not introduced you. This is Elessar Telcontor, otherwise know as Aragorn, King of Gondor and Arnor. He has several other names, he rather collects them, shall I list them all?"
"Legolas..." The King is not in the mood I think, for teasing.
"Very well, then," Legolas smiles brightly, "Another day perhaps. Aragorn, meet Maewen, Lady of Ithilien, Warrior of the Woodland realm, Beloved of Legolas." The last he slips in as if it is nothing at all and he sits back in his chair folding his arms in satisfaction.
You could hear a pin drop.
"What?" Aragorn's mouth drops open.
And so Legolas begins again,
"Maewen, Lady of Ithilien, Warrior of the Woodland realm, Beloved of-"
Arwen lets out a shriek of joy, her hands flying to her mouth. All of a sudden she looks so girlish, so not like a Queen at all.
"Legolas! You have been hiding her from us." she cries.
"Well not hiding exactly..."
Legolas' eyes are dancing with merriment. He is enjoying this. I should be angry, I should be furious with him. He did not warn me he planned to do this, or ask my feelings and I have a more than sneaking suspicion he does this purely to play games with his friends, but he is happy. Happy, glowing, mischievous, as I have not seen him for such a long time and it is infectious, his joy. I cannot help but smile.
"How long has this been going on?" Aragorn leans forward, elbows on the table. He does not look joyful, he looks annoyed...hurt even.
"How long?" Legolas tilts his head to look at me, he does not seem concerned by Elessar's bad temper.
"Longer than you have been alive I think Aragorn."
And the King leans back in his chair with a thump.
"Longer than I have been alive..." He repeats it out loud as if he cannot believe it and Faramir giggles, he giggles, at the other end of the table.
"Did you know this Faramir?" Elessar looks at him through narrowed eyes.
"It is not a secret in Ithilien," Faramir shrugs his shoulders sheepishly.
"And you did not tell me?"
"It was hardly my place Aragorn."
"You have been telling me that far too often today I think. Legolas is a bad influence."
"If you are only just discovering that now Brother you are sadly out of touch." It is one of the stern Sons of Elrond. I do not know which one.
"We have been telling you Legolas needs a firm hand for years."
He is joking...I think... Legolas takes it that way anyway for he laughs, a light, bright, burst of laughter and it warms my soul just to hear it. I watch him, here among his friends, eyes dancing, face alight, joyful, contented, bouyant. I wonder, is he always like this here? Have I been missing this, by refusing to come here? He seems happier than he does in Ithilien.
It doesn't seem right that should be so and I try not to think on it, less it hurts me. I try to simply enjoy him for it is like watching a butterfly emerge from a chrysalis. My Legolas is back.
Sadly it soon becomes obvious Elessar was right. A few hours rest was not enough for Legolas. Slowly his excitment ebbs away, his laughter fades, he becomes quieter and quieter and I am concerned.
The others it seems do not notice, they laugh and joke, in high spirits, and although they look often at us, at Legolas who has his arm round me, who is affectionate as he has not been for years, they do not see his tiredness and pallor. Except the King.
He reaches across the table, placing his hand upon Legolas' arm to get his attention.
"You are tired. Do not be a fool Legolas." He is stern and I feel uneasy, there is an undercurrent between them tonight, and Legolas' teasing earlier was a part of it.
"I can look after myself." Legolas snaps back, his voice just a bit harder, with a bit too much of an edge to be polite.
"Well it appears you cannot." Aragorn withdraws and confines himself to pointed glares in our direction. I think I have never been more uncomfortable, still he is right. Legolas is being foolish and I wonder why.
Eventually it becomes too much for me, his strength is fading, but I know from long experience that if I nag at him to leave he will dig his heels in and do the opposite. There is only one thing for it. I have not been with him so many years without learning how to manipulate him.
"When will it be polite to leave?" I whisper in his ear.
He shoots me a look that tells me he is on to me, but then I realise how tired he must be because he plays along. He will use me to get him out of here without making it obvious he does what Elessar suggested.
"It is early yet, are you fed up with their company already?" He counters but it is a token resistance for appearances only and he knows I can see right through him.
"I would prefer yours." I lean my head upon his shoulder, I will play this game with him if he needs to it save face. Sometimes slowly and gently is the way to handle Legolas. I think perhaps Elessar has not yet discovered that.
He lifts his hand absentmindedly and strokes my hair gently.
"Let me get you out of here then" he says and hauls himself to his feet.
"Forgive us," He directs his words to the gathering in general and pointedly not to Aragorn. "Things have been rather difficult in Ithilien and Maewen is tired. I will see her to her rooms."
"Maewen is tired?" Aragorn's words carry a hint of sarcasm. Why does he just not let it go? Legolas is leaving which is what he wanted. Does he not know pointing out the obvious lie in the excuse will only make him stay. I think he has a lot to learn.
I stand hurriedly, before Legolas can react and stubbornly refuse to go, Elessar may not know him but I do.
"It was a pleasure to meet you," I say, "I am sorry I am fatigued." It makes me look weak but I do not care.
"It was our pleasure Maewen," I feel the brush of Arwens fea against mine. She understands, she knows the game Legolas and I play and she will help me get him out of here. I feel a rush of gratitude towards her.
As we retreat, Elessar calls after us,
"Legolas, look after yourself."
And I turn back to look at him, when Legolas does not. His face is etched with concern, he is worried. He only tries to care for Legolas but for some reason they are at odds tonight, I wonder why. Despite myself I am filled with a rush of compassion for the King. Legolas is enough to give you a headache when you do not handle him correctly.
The corridors confuse me. They all look the same and I do not know how anyone can find their way around. Legolas does however, he strides with purpose towards my rooms. He knows this place like the back of his hand. Suddenly I realise just how much of his life I have been missing out on.
"May I stay?" He asks when we arrive and I wonder why he feels the need to ask. Of course he can.
"I will have to leave at dawn," he continues as he strips off his shirt and throws himself on the bed. "They are obsessed about appearances here and being discovered in your rooms will only earn me another endless lecture from Aragorn. I do not need another."
"But we are together...and they know that now," I do not understand.
"Not together enough for them." he sighs, "It is best not to question it and just make them happy, I have found."
"Not together enough?" We are entwined with each other, our feas dance a dance of love. What can be closer than that?
"They do not see love as we do." He sounds so tired, "They are strange, you will get used to it."
How on earth does the Evenstar manage to survive here?
I sit next to him and run my hand questioningly over the crisp white bandages that decorate his torso. These are not elven.
"Aragorn's handiwork," he explains before I even ask, "He has confined me to the palace," and he lies down, hands behind his head.
"He was not happy with you this evening," I am tentative about asking but I want to know. I have never seen them together and it has not been what I imagined.
"And I am not happy with him either," he says, "He forgets himself. I am not a child that needs lecturing. He is my friend, not my father and sometimes he forgets that."
I cast my mind back to that glimpse of the worry on the Kings face as we left and still I feel sorry him. I know from long years of practice the weight of worrying about Legolas.
He is stubborn, he is erratic and he can be volatile. He spends no time looking after himself, only others, his friends, his people. Trying to keep him safe is so very difficult.
"He is concerned about you Legolas."
"I am sick of people's concern for me. It suffocates me, I can do without it and I do not want Aragorn's. He feels guilt over the sealonging and overcompensates endlessly. I wish he would let it go. I have been alive centuries longer than he, yet I do believe he thinks me barely older than Eldarion at times."
"Is that why you were teasing him?" I ask, "I should be angry with you. You did not tell me you would announce us to all and sundry!"
And through his tiredness he smiles,
"But you are not angry?" and I shake my head. Tonight I cannot be angry with him.
"Do not worry about Aragorn, he will get over it. It is how we always are." It is a strange friendship then I think and I wonder why they pursue it so determinedly. Still Legolas frequently confuses me, this is nothing new.
So I rise to undress and untwist the intricate braids in my hair and by the time I am done, by the time I am ready to fall into bed beside him, he is asleep.