We receive the news Aragorn is on his way long before he gets here. The sentries and the trees tell us. And so I stand and wait, in the courtyard, Erynion at my side, Gimli at my back.
"Listen to him," is the only advice Gimli has been able to give me. "Listen to him and do not let your temper run away with you, Legolas."
I know I have a temper. I know it is difficult to control, and I know I am nervous, so very, very, nervous.
I am so distracted I do not notice Maewen arrive. I do not notice until she is next to me, until she slips her hand into my hand. She told me last night she would be here, that she would stand beside me, and I am glad she is. This will be the first time we have greeted Aragorn here together. The two of us.
She squeezes my hand and sends me a message: 'Be strong; I am with you; I love you.'
I do not turn to look at her. I do not need to. Instead I squeeze her hand back. I send my love back to her and I know she will understand.
There is no mistaking Aragorn is king, I think, as I watch him ride in. There never is. He rides, his retinue behind him, as a man of greatness. He has such an aura, and his presence fills a room the instant he enters. But he acts as if that is unimportant. That is his true greatness, that he does not see it. These men that trail after him will only annoy him. He hates it, the fact he has such deference. He would rather ride here under his own steam, on his own. Oh he can play on his power, his majesty, when he needs to, when it benefits his people, but it is unimportant to him.
I can only admire him.
He pulls his horse to a stop and dismounts, walks in front of me and I realise I have missed him. I realise also, suddenly, that he is as nervous as I am.
"Legolas." He nods his head deferentially as he addresses me.
"Elessar," I reply.
Why do I say that? As soon as it is out of my mouth I regret it. Even before I hear the hiss of disappointment behind me from Gimli and the sigh from Erynion. I could use protocol to justify it but I know, as he does, that from my lips that name is an insult. It hits home. I see him flinch.
My people can hear every word we say. Of course they can, they are elves. Although out of politeness they may not listen, if they want to they can. Aragorn knows this as well I do but he does not lower his voice.
"Do not call me that," he says, head held high. "Elessar takes over my life. There are so few places I can go to be simply Aragorn. Would you deny me this sanctuary with you—Legolas of the Woodland Realm?"
Oh it is so hard to be angry with him. He always undoes me. He always knows just what to say to reach the heart of me. He knows the joy I had in the Fellowship, the freedom to just be Legolas. Not Legolas the prince, not Legolas son of Thranduil. Just Legolas. He is right. How can I deny him?
Why would I want to?
He has given me an out, a way to back down from my foolishness and I take it.
"You will always have sanctuary here in Ithilien, Aragorn of the Dunedain."
And he smiles. It is not a smile of mockery or of pride. It is one of warmth and love, to soothe my harsh edges.
Elessar the King and Legolas the Prince often clash, and can be difficult.
But Aragorn the Ranger and Legolas the Wood-elf?
We fit perfectly.
"Aragorn!" Gimli barges past me then and greets Aragorn as if he has not seen him in an age. Foolish dwarf. . . He was in Minas Tirith not three days ago! I think he hopes to save me from myself and my foolishness by overtaking the conversation and I am happy to let him. I do not know where to head next with Aragorn.
So I watch as Aragorn greets him happily. I think he is just as relieved as I to have someone in-between us, then once he has finished with Gimli he turns to Maewen graciously.
"My lady," he says with a bow. He has always had good manners when he needs then. Elrond taught him well.
But Gimli interrupts him then.
"Let me correct you, Aragorn, for I have been told in no uncertain terms she is not a lady. She is 'just Maewen."
I have to laugh. Does he not realise how bad that sounds? Sometimes Gimli is a bigger fool than I. It must have been Maewen herself that told him this for she has always said it. She argued with me so strongly when I finally declared myself—and that took no end of courage—'I am not a princess' she said as if it was any reason at all for us not to continue our dalliance, for since when did I want a princess anyway? I did not. I wanted her!
Aragorn is taken aback and that makes me laugh the harder, the expression on his face! I do not know if it is because he thinks he has offended her or because of the ludicrous way Gimli has phrased it. But Maewen is gracious. She says she is no princess but she is wrong. She is my princess and always will be. She is as good as any others I have known—though in truth that is not many, and they are mainly mannish.
I do not know what to do then. How do I move on from here? And he has so many men with him. Where will we put them all?
It is then Maewen touches my arm, as if she reads my mind.
"Do not worry. I have arranged it," she murmers.
Of course she has. She always does. I may be able to organise a battle, to captain my men on the field and know where everyone of them is, what each and every one's strengths are, but organisation of the settlement in some areas eludes me. I am hopeless at it. What would I do without Maewen?
"Let me show your men to their accommodation," she says sweetly to Aragorn, "and the horses to the stables." And she leads them off, leaving us standing awkwardly behind.
Gimli takes over then as I stare hopelessly at Maewen's receding back. Suddenly, without her next to me, I feel adrift. Thank goodness for Gimli. He talks so much my silence and uncertainty could easily be overlooked, although I do not think for a second Aragorn himself overlooks them. He sees everything.
But Gimli talks . . . And talks and talks, and when he is silent Erynion starts up in his stead. They, both of them, are petrified I will make some error, say something hugely insulting, start an argument. They sweep us along, to Aragorn's room, and then to the hall for a meal, and I follow quietly behind. I am not sure if Aragorn takes my silence as anger, bad temper or simply the awkwardness it really is.
Maewen joins us for food and they all watch me. I feel their eyes upon me...all of them. And it is becoming irritating. Their gazes burn underneath my skin, watching, watching, watching. I sit and eat and let conversation roll around me. If they want to talk on my behalf and cover for my silence, then they can and I will let them.
Erynion obviously believes I should be doing more. I can see the frustration in his eyes and I think I know exactly what he wants. He wants me to take Aragorn away, to talk to him in private and thrash this out. But I have no idea what to say, no idea how to say it, and I just do not want to! He kicks my shin incessantly under the table and it is getting sore.
"Erynion!" I snap after the next time he does it. "If there is something you wish to say, just say it. My leg is getting sore."
And he glares at me. He gives me a look that cuts me to shreds, but what can he say? We are in company. Instead he just grits his teeth. He is finding me annoying. I know it. I can drive Erynion to distraction when I do not do what he thinks I should when he wants it. Sometimes knowing that is enough to make me deliberately drag my feet.
Today, though, it only makes me angry. Suddenly I am tired—so very tired of all of this—and that tiredness hits me like a physical wave. Why can they not leave me alone to handle this tension my own way, in my own time?
I push back my chair aggressively then, despite the fact I have eaten barely anything and Maewen grasps my arm as I do. Her eyes are full of concern and worry, and that angers me too. I shrug her off. I do not need her concern.
"Aragorn," I snap. "Erynion believes we should be speaking in private and that I neglect the obvious. Is that not so, Erynion?"
"Legolas," Erynion leaps to his feet and puts a hand on my shoulder to ground me. I know he tries to prevent me flying away in foolish rage, but I do not need it. Does he think me a complete fool?
"Eat first, please, you do not need to rush things." He is so full of worry for me it sets my nerves on edge. They do not need to worry so. I am alright. I do not need them to tiptoe round me waiting for the next disaster.
They give me no credit at all. They truly do think me hopeless.
Perhaps they are right.
Anyway, I am not in the mood now to play their games.
"Aragorn," I ignore Erynion and turn to my mortal friend instead. "Will you accompany me to my study and we can get this over with?"
"Legolas—" It is a low warning from Gimli. In that one word he tells me to mind my friends, to watch my temper, to focus on what it is I wish to achieve from this visit instead of allowing this all consuming anger to swallow me whole and destroy my friendship with Aragorn as it did before.
I should listen.
But I do not want to.
Tension crackles between us all and it has come out of nowhere. I am so angry, so very angry with them all. Who do they think they are? Maewen has no right to worry for me when she so readily betrays me. Erynion oversteps the mark. He is my friend and my second, yes, but he is not in charge of me. I am his prince here and I am sick of him thinking I am not fit to rule.
And Gimli? He is only a dwarf. He is on Aragorn's side of course, in all this.
"Legolas, we do not have to do this now if you do not wish it. I am going nowhere. There is as much time as we need available to us." Aragorn has stood and approached me. He is so understanding, so empathetic, so perfect. He always is. He is everything I am not as a leader.
And he makes it so goddamn obvious. Elessar the triumphant and Legolas, the one who stumbles through on luck alone leaving disaster in his wake. So lucky I am then that I have Aragorn here to save me from myself. That is what they are all thinking—how can Legolas throw this friendship away when he will drown without it?
I have had enough of their pitying looks and their low opinions of me. I do not need Aragorn's condescending help. I have lived his life span five times over. I managed long before I knew him and I will manage again without him if I have to.
"Just come with me!" I bite back at him, and I turn on my heels and storm from the room. Whether he follows me or not I do not know.
And to be honest, at this moment, I do not care.