Authors Note: So I thought this would be the last chapter...but turns out there's still one more. Maewen had more to say than I thought!
Maewen
It is strange, once things begin to change, how rapidly it happens.
The clouds have lifted, the sun shines, and I am happy. It is as if Legolas and I have been caught in a storm. A whirlwind of thunder and lightening, gales and torrential rain. Battered and buffeted by outside forces we have staggered through it and emerged on the other side. And along the way all the misunderstanding, the harsh words, the resentment and anger has been washed away leaving us fresh and new.
We have found ourselves again and alongside that we have found each other.
Legolas and his father have been seldom apart. They roamed all parts of the settlement and our new land and Thranduil was fascinated with every aspect of it. He is proud of his son and that is good to see. He always has been but Legolas, I think, has not known that.
And so I have not seen much of my love, hardly at all, as his father monopolised his time but I did not resent that for it is good for him. I saw him in the night, when Thranduil rested and he returned to me. Then we walked under the stars.
I wonder sometimes, exactly which moment things changed for Legolas, for they most definitely have. For me, it was when he told me he believed I no longer loved him, worse than that, that I hated him. It was a moment so crushing it could not fail to open my eyes. In an instant I saw the damage my resistance had done, for he was right. How could he believe I loved him when I spent all my energy rejecting every new part of him. That was the moment I was determined to change.
I suspect, for Legolas, it was when we returned to where Taenor fell. He fell apart then, splintered before my eyes as I had known he would, and Elessar caught him. It was hard that day to walk away and leave him alone with the Man but the dwarf insisted. He was determined and would not let me stay. He is such an amusing creature, the dwarf. I find I am becoming quite fond of him, and he loves Legolas. So how can their friendship be wrong? It is strange. . . But not wrong.
And Elessar—I do not know what he did. I do not know what magic he wove, but from the instant the dwarf and I returned Legolas was different. His tenseness had unwound somehow. Suddenly he could hear us.
I am having to reassess Elessar as well. He is not what I thought at all, and Legolas needs him, but I worry. I worry so much about the day he will leave Legolas, for he must. He is mortal.
How will Legolas survive that?
But now I find myself on my way to Minas Tirith escorting Thranduil. He means to visit Elessar's city before he departs for the Greenwood. And Legolas is not here.
He has returned days ago with Elessar, saying he needed to be there before his father, to greet him formally, that there were things that needed attending to and protocol determined he should escort the King home. It was all nonsense and excuses of course. I think he simply wished for time alone with his friend and I let him have it. There were too many harsh words and bad feelings that had passed between them. They needed some time on the road to wash those clean. And the dwarf has returned to his home so I think Legolas clings a little tighter to his remaining mortal friend.
So I am left with Thranduil who is always nerve-wracking and never easy.
We are near the city and have paused at a vantage point to gaze upon it. The same place we halted when I came this way with Legolas. The city is still the same, still stone rising out of the land but it is somehow less intimidating than before.
"It is impressive certainly." It is Thranduil who speaks beside me and he startles me.
"They are very proud of it," I tell him. "But it is too cold for me. Too much stone and not enough greenery. Legolas has plans to change that for Arwen, he says."
"Hmm," Something tells me it is not Thranduil's idea of a city either, "So Legolas likes this place well enough then?"
"He likes the people who live there and that is the most important thing for him I think."
I turn to go but Thranduil reaches out and grips my arm. It is a sudden movement that takes me by surprise.
"Look after my son for me," he says and his gaze is so intense I struggle to meet it. He is anxious about leaving, I know that, especially now there is no Taenor to be his eyes and ears, and it is hard to see the worry so clearly on his face. I am not used to seeing weakness of any kind from my King.
"Of course," I answer him quickly because it goes without saying that I will. "He is my heart."
"See if you can convince him to come to Eryn Lasgalen. . . for a visit."
It is then I truly realise what it has cost Thranduil to allow Legolas to come here, what he has lost—his sadness.
But Legolas struggles in the Greenwood now. His sealonging is at it's worst there. It tears him apart that in the home he loved and fought for, for so long, he can find no peace. He is restless and anxious and unhappy. That is why I came here in the end, even though I resented every minute of it. Because I could see how he could not remain there.
I wonder if there is a way though, if Legolas and I work together. Can we find a plan that will enable him to happily visit his father, to give him the time he needs. I resolve to talk to him about it seriously.
"I will try," It is the best I can tell my King. "He misses you. . . But it is difficult for him to be there." He knows this, I do not have to tell him, but still I feel I must.
"I know he does not stay away from choice." He sighs heavily and turns his horse towards the road. "Let us do this then Maewen. Let us visit this city of Men which has enchanted my son whom we both love."
As we enter the city the welcome is indeed a splendid one. People line the streets to get a glimpse of the Elvenking as we parade through them and the soldiers who lead us are deferential to the point of terror. There are hushed whispers all around and I can understand why. Thranduil is indeed at once both magnificent and terrifying, even to elves, let alone Men.
I remember Legolas telling me how fascinated the people of this city are with him. How, when he walks the streets, there are always surreptitious touches of his hair or his clothes as he passes through the crowds. They alternate, he says, between amazement and fear. Half of them adore him and the other half believe him capable of enchanting them with spells. Today they look at Thranduil as if he has the power of the Lady of Lothlorien. He has power, certainly, but not like her. Though watching him I can see why the Men would think it.
When we finally reach the reception outside the Royal Palace, Elessar and Arwen stand before us, in all their finery. It is completely different from the welcome Legolas, Faramir and I recieved the last time I was here. But as I look, anxiously, around the gathering of nobles I cannot see Legolas.
He is not here.
Thranduil notices it too.
"Where is my son?" He mutters beside me as we dismount, leaving me in absolutely no doubt he is not impressed with his absense. It is especially odd given that Legolas told us one of the reasons he had to come to Minas Tirith early was to be here to greet his father.
But there is no time for us to discuss it. Elessar already stands before us.
"My Lord," he says deferentially, giving a low bow. "Welcome to Minas Tirith." Arwen smiles at his side, her face alight. I really think she misses the company of Elves in this city of Men. Her face radiates true joy at our presence.
"My Lord, Thranduil," she says, extending her arm to him, "You must be tired from the road. Let us retire inside for some rest and refreshment."
"Undómial," The Evenstar, he calls her. Her elven honorific, well deserved for she truly is the most beautiful elleth I have ever seen. "It is good to meet you, daughter of Elrond."
And so we follow them inside, to an ornate reception room where a fire burns merrily in the grate and tables are laden with drink and food. It is a relief to be away from the awestruck eyes of the multitudes. Thranduil turns to Elessar the moment the door shuts behind us, eyes flashing with his frustration.
"Where is Legolas?" He cuts straight to the point.
Elessar pales as he opens his mouth to answer. Briefly he looks as terrified as his people and I find it is somewhat amusing but Arwen saves him. She places a hand on Thranduil's arm and smiles up at him. Something in her smile is miraculously calming and even Thranduil melts.
"I must apologise for his absense," she says sweetly, "It is entirely our fault for he has taken Eldarion to the woods today on an adventure. They had a promise it seems and Eldarion nagged him in to submission."
Instantly the concern and frustration I felt at the lack of Legolas, evaporates as I remember that small boy, big eyes wide with misunderstanding and on the verge of tears, calling out after Legolas when we left here, pleading for a promise from him of some time in the woods. I told Legolas I would make sure he fulfilled that promise. I am pleased he has, I am pleased he did it without my assistance. It is, I think, a sign that he is well.
"Eldarion?" Thranduil is, for a second, confused.
"Our son." Elessar replies and Thranduil's eyes fly open in alarm.
"You have let Legolas out in the wilds alone with a child!" His shock at the very idea of that almost makes me laugh. "He has no idea of children and sometimes, Elessar, he is so caught up with the trees and whatever else catches his mind he is barely more responsible than a child himself! Have you lost your senses?" It is true of course, what Thranduil says. Legolas can be as flighty and irresponsible when he is entwined with the land, as he was when a small boy.
But Elessar just smiles.
"Peace, Thranduil," he says. "My son could not be in safer hands. Legolas will let nothing harm him. When it comes to Eldarion he is responsibility personified. You will see."
And Thranduil gives him a look that is full of scepticism. It is clear Thranduil thinks him ever so slightly unbalanced.
The food is delicious, and the company friendly. Even Thranduil mellows eventually and drops some of his aura of power, becomes more approachable. And when Elessar eventually stands to guide him to his rooms I stand also. I am not sure exactly where in the palace we are and I hope someone will direct me to where they wish me to go so I will not make a fool of myself. It is Arwen who saves me.
"Come Maewen," she says holding out her arm. I will take you to your rooms. The direction she heads in is not the direction I thought we would go and by the time we reach the door she stops in front of I am sure it is not the room I last stayed in.
When she swings the door open I know it is not.
The suite of rooms is large and impressive. Much larger than where they last housed me. . . And it is strewn with Legolas' belongings. He has always been chaotically untidy. Arwen laughs at my shock.
"We thought we should put you together, since you are the Lady of Ithilien."
"I am not–" I look at her horrified. "Legolas told me Men are impossibly picky about these things and it is easy to offend them. Legolas and I are not. . . We are have not been wed, we have sworn no formal vow. . . It is not the way of my people."
"But you have here." She lays a hand over my heart, "And that is all that counts. They do not have to know the details of the two of you. If we announce you as such they will all accept it. He needs you with him I think." I am flabbergasted. I certainly did not expect this and she laughs at my speechlessness. "I am sorry it means you have to contend with this. . ." She waves her hand at the mess of clothes and items that adorn the rooms, "but I assume you are used to it. He has always resisted any efforts to impose tidiness upon him."
I do not know what to say.
"I assume this is welcome?" She asked quietly then obviously perturbed by my stunned silence.
"Oh yes!" I will not have her think I do not wish to be with Legolas, for I do, I do! "It is welcome indeed, it is just. . .unexpected."
She places a hand gently on my arm.
"I need to thank you," she says, "For returning Legolas to Estel. The rift between them caused him much distress."
"That was not my doing," I exclaim for I think I played no part in that. "It was the dwarf, I think, who was the only one Legolas was able to hear. It was him who encouraged their reconnection."
"And it was you who sent for Gimli." she smiles. "Gimli and Legolas, they are a strange pair. Gimli is a rock to Legolas' wildness. No wonder he intends visiting him as soon as his father departs!"
"He intends visiting him?" I do not know this. Legolas has not mentioned he had any plans to travel back to the dwarf so soon. We have just found each other and I thought he might wish to spend some time with me.
"You did not know those were his plans?" Arwen frowns as she looks at me with what could only be called concern and I am instantly defensive.
"We have discussed it of course." I say brazenly, I surprise myself how easily I lie and I hope she cannot see into my mind. "But I did not know he had spoken of his plans with others. . . And his Father does not know. . . He wishes Legolas to visit the Greenwood, but there are problems with that."
"I will not speak of it to Thranduil, you have my word." She says it firmly. "I think I will leave Legolas to deal with that himself!" She turns to go then and leave me alone as I settle in to these strange rooms. "Legolas will be back shortly," They are her last words spoken over her shoulder as she departs. "Estel instructed him to have Eldarion back by dark and he is always obedient when it is to do with Eldarion."
And then I am on my own.
I wonder when Legolas decided he would visit Gimli? Was it back in Ithilien or just since he has arrived here? I know now he needs his friends, and I am determined not to keep him from them. I will not be selfish, I will not be resentful, I will not fall back into my bad habits and inadvertently hurt him.
I can see how it might benefit him to spend time with the dwarf now, and away from Ithilien, just for a short time.
But it is time away from me.
And I cannot pretend that does not hurt.