XXII

The White Council

Legolas had only one chance.

Any moment the other scouts would be there, and he would be surrounded, trapped in the dead-ending ravine, and no speed or cunning in the world could save him from their arrows. But as of yet there was only one, and he hadn't released the arrow yet; maybe he could not aim properly in the dark. It was now or never, Legolas thought. Now or never - his heart beat hard against his ribcage - now!

He ducked and ran. An arrow whistled over his head and struck the inner wall of the ravine; another skittered across the ground behind his feet. There was a far-off shout, muffled by the scarf that covered the scout's mouth. He scrambled up the slope from the forest; Legolas went the other way, stumbling from boulder to boulder, from shelter to shelter, keeping low to the ground. He wanted to get down into the forest, but first he had to put a distance between him and the scout, and that meant he had to run south - away from Rivendell. Legolas knew it wasn't a good thing. He just did not know what else to do.

Halfway down he stopped to look over his shoulder. The scout was still far behind him, struggling across the uneven ground; the snow dunes and patches of ice, the loose stones and the stiff and unyielding winter grasses seemed to bother him a lot more than it bothered Legolas. A Man? Or perhaps, Legolas thought, just an elf with a bad leg.

Either way, he could outrun the scout, maybe all the way back to Rivendell - expect there was more than one. The tawny owl had mentioned ten.

But the tawny owl had lied.

An arrow hit the hood of his fur-lined cloak; the pull of it as it went through the fabric nearly brought him off balance. He had been still a moment too long. Before the next arrow found its mark, Legolas turned and ran across the wind-blown slope until, finally, he was in between the trees and the shelter of their evergreen branches. He stumbled on for some twenty steps, all shaky and out of breath, until coming to an uncertain stop. The woods were silent but for the rustle of wind in the outer trees. In the darkness it would be easy to hide.

Maybe he'd got away.

There was a sudden gust of wind, a loud shriek, then pain cutting deep into his scalp. Legolas cried out and brought his arms up over his head. The tawny owl shrieked again, hacking at his arms, its talons tangled into Legolas' hair; then it lifted, wheeled around and came again.

"Little fool!" it said, laughing. "You can't escape!"

Legolas turned to run, but the owl was faster than him and this time it aimed for his eyes. He dropped to his knees, curled into a ball and pulled the hood up over his head, flinging his arms up on top of it to keep it in place. The tawny owl bore down on his unprotected hands. It would tear them to pieces.

Bringing one arm down to cover his eyes, Legolas twisted around, grabbed the owl by its tail and tossed it down into the snow. It wriggled madly, flapping its wings and scattering the blood-soaked snow all around, nearly escaping - Legolas grabbed it again, this time getting hold of a wing, and swung it around, smashing it against a tree. He dropped it; shocked - the owl slid down into the snow with a meek whimper.

Legolas drew his dagger. The owl could no longer hurt him, and he didn't want to hurt it at all, but it suffered and he had to end it. The owl saw him coming and its eyes went wide and wild. It sputtered, snapping its beak as if to prove it could still fight - Legolas would never get near it. In the end he did not have to. The owl's desperate protests drained what little strength it had had left. Within seconds it went still and the sputters died out; its eyes glazed over.

As Legolas watched, blood dripping from the long gashes across his hands, the owl changed. Its feathers became black and shiny, its body larger and slimmer, its beak long and black. It was no longer a tawny owl. Though Legolas had never seen the black bird up close before, he knew what it was.

Crebain.

And somehow someone had - enchanted it.

Legolas took a stumbling step back, trembling. He had to get back. The owl had delayed him for far too long. He had to -

A hand grabbed the back of his cloak and yanked.

Legolas fell on his back in the snow and felt the air go out of his lungs. There was a shadow, leaning over him with his face dark against the moonlight, and the glint of a dagger. Drawing ice-cold air into his lungs Legolas kicked out and hit the scout's calf with such force he fell to one knee; twisting to the side and pushing himself up, Legolas got to his feet and ran, but strong arms caught him around the waist and pulled him down again. He wriggled madly and his elbow found the scout's chin, forcing out a grunt of pain. Then he was pressed down on his back in the snow, one arm pinned under him and the other caught under the scout's knee; the scout fumbled for the dagger again; Legolas writhed desperately, getting one arm free, reaching up to claw at the pale blue eyes above the scarf...

The scout struck him on the side of his head.

Legolas fell back.

He could not move, could hardly keep his eyes open. He tasted blood.

The dagger caught the moonlight again.

It seemed to hover above his head for an endlessly long time.

Then a shout from far away broke the silence: the scout looked up, and there was a shadow above him - an eagle, a real one, and behind it came another. The scout staggered backwards, covering his face with his arms, and the moonlight fell on Legolas again. For a moment he lay still. Then a furry red tail flicked across his face and a soft and wet nose nudged his cheek. The fox looked at him expectantly. Legolas frowned.

Then he rolled over, groaning, and crawled blindly after the fox with the eagles' calls and the scout's screams ringing in his ears. Hidden under the thick branches of an old spruce, he turned to see the scout still fighting the eagles, and one of the eagles making a daring move - bearing down on the scout's chest there was the sound of ripped cloth, and something golden dropped into the snow. Then he scout with the bow rushed into the clearing. Cursing in a language that Legolas didn't recognize, he grabbed his companion by the arm and pulled him away, and though the eagles took up pursuit they could not hinder the scouts from escaping.

Legolas looked after them until they were gone and the forest was still and quiet again. Then the fox swept by him and into the clearing, and Legolas slowly got to his feet and followed. The moonlight glowed silver on the blood in the snow. He staggered, suddenly dizzy.

Someone emerged from the shadows between the trees and caught him in his arms before his knees buckled.

"My dear boy", Radagast said, "what have you been doing?"

Radagast's pack was always full of odd things - coloured stones and oddly shaped sticks, leather pouches with dried leaves, hawk-claws and fragile robin's eggs and books about to fall apart, and sometimes some of Gandalf's fireworks, which used to go off by themselves if the pack was handled carelessly - but this time he brought out a roll of linen bandages and a jar with a jellyish salve in it.

"Here, now", he said, and wiped the tears away from Legolas' face with the sleeve of his roughspun robe. "You have to let me go so I can see to your wounds, and I need you to tell me what happened to you. There, that's a good boy. Sit down."

Reluctantly, Legolas pulled back enough for Radagast to brush the snow away from a mossy log and help him sit down on it, pulling the fur cloak tight around him. Then he sat still, trembling, while Radagast pulled the plug from a water skin and poured its content over his hands. It hurt, and he tried to be brave and sit still and keep from crying, but he wanted the wizard to hold him again and he didn't think he could be brave for much longer. He didn't want it to be real - he wanted it to be a bad dream and if it wasn't - no, he didn't want that, he didn't want that.

Legolas swallowed hard and looked down at his hands, but that was a mistake. With the blood washed away, though quickly spilling over again, the deep gashes left by the owl became visible, running criss-cross over his hands, some of them covered with flaps of skin that were sickening to look at. Legolas whimpered and couldn't take his eyes from them.

"Child?" Radagast said. "Keep an eye on the fox for me, I don't want him to run away in case I need him again."

Legolas swallowed again and obediently looked over to the fox, which trotted around the clearing sniffing at the trampled up snow. He kept his gaze fixed on it while Radagast cleaned the wounds on his hands and spread a thick salve over them that felt cold and soothing to the torn skin. It made him feel a bit better.

"And", the wizard said as he began to wrap his hands in layer after layer of bandages, "tell me what you were doing in the mountains."

Legolas drew a deep breath, eyes still on the fox, then slowly began to unwound the tale. In bits and pieces, sometimes so incoherently Radagast had to ask him to repeat himself, he told the wizard about Quick-wing's letter, the dagger in Netherford, Echail and the twins, the bottle of wine and lord Elrond, the kestrel and the tawny owl and his decision to leave. Radagast wasn't angry, not even about the wine. He only listened and nodded, humming now and then to show he understood. By the time Legolas had ran out of words, his hands were neatly wrapped in bandages, the smaller gashes on his head cleaned and covered with salve, and he had another bandage around his forehead. His breathing had become regular again. He thought that if only he could go back to Rivendell and sleep, he would be alright.

"That meeting", he said. "The White Council. They're going to hold it tonight, aren't they?"

"They have probably already begun", Radagast said, leaning close to dab the cuts on his face with a wet cloth.

"Where's Tinuhen?"

"He isn't here yet." Radagast's voice was very soft. He reached into one of his large pockets and brought out a small spider, which scuttled all over his palm until he set it on Legolas' cheek and told it to spin nets over all the little cuts.

"Spider web is healing", he said, "and very strong."

"I know." For whatever reason, Legolas wanted to cry again. He wanted Tinuhen to be there. Radagast was kind and familiar and he smelled of Greenwood - earth and leaves and age - but Legolas wanted Tinuhen to be there.

Though most of all he wanted to go home.

"Dear child", Radagast said and pulled him close, careful not to crush the spider. "Dear child... you've been very brave, do you realise that? And it is all over now. It is all over."

"No it's not", Legolas whispered against his shoulder. "It's not over until everyone's here and they're safe. They're going to be safe, aren't they?" he asked, pulling back. "Quick-wing said there were goblins..."

Radagast hesitated, then stroke his cheek. "We need to get you back to Rivendell. And I must think. There is still the Council."

Legolas wanted to ask more, but he knew better than to disturb a wizard when he's thinking, so he sat silent on the log while the spider walked over his cheeks and nose, lightly so it did not hurt. The fox jumped up on the log and curled up beside him, his body was warm against Legolas' leg. The windblown pines were calm and whispered soothingly with their evergreen branches, their shadows shifting over the snow in a mild breeze.

And there, glinting in the moonlight, was that golden thing that the eagle had ripped from the scout's cloak. Legolas stood up on unsteady feet and walked over.

It was a large golden brooch, round and decorated with a pattern of knots, and he remembered it, but could not tell from where - though it made him think of Echail and his arrogant smile, dark hair touched by a gust of wind, cheeks red from the cold. Legolas turned it over in his hand. It was very heavy.

"I've been thinking", Radagast said, and Legolas fastened the brooch to the inside of his cloak and walked back. He sat down again, picking the fox into his arms, while Radagast plucked the spider away from his shoulder.

"Thank you for helping me", Legolas said to it. "I promise I'll never stomp on any of your cousins ever again."

The spider stiffened, shocked, and didn't seem to know what to make of that. Radagast put it back into its pocket.

"Now", he said. "We must act swiftly. From what you have told me I assume the Council is being held at this moment, and they will not be willing to put it off until Tinuhen has arrived - it would be dangerous to leave so much unfinished, and many of its participants will be eager to return home as soon as possible. Tinuhen will of course be allowed to talk before those that are left once he arrives, which will put your parents in a situation they do not like - they will know nothing of the Council's business, but the Council will know a lot about theirs, and most importantly the decision as to wether they should be allowed to join the Council or not is still out of their hands."

"Is this Council really supposed to be good?"

"It is", Radagast said with a sad smile, "but we are dealing with very wise and mighty people - they know too much and have seen too much to trust anyone but themselves. Sometimes it is a difficult thing to do both what is right and what is wisest in the end. You will understand that when you are a little older. But perhaps we can show them a thing or two about thinking you know better than everyone else."

"How?"

The wizard's smile had a hint of mischief now. "I have the right to come storming halfway into the Council and demand to join, and I can speak for Greenwood, of course, but not for the elves. And naught of what I have told the Council before has had much effect. They do not believe me - and I am not certain they will believe anyone else either - but with a representative of the wood-elves present they can hardly ignore it anymore. Moreover, if an elf of Greenwood has once been to the Council, they will have little choice but to let you in a second time, because you will know too much to be slighted."

"But Tinuhen's not here yet!"

"No", said Radagast slowly, "he is not."

"Then there's nothing we can do."

"I believe there is."

Legolas stared blankly for a moment, then gasped. "You don't mean that. I'll never - I can't - "

Radagast calmly rolled up the remaining bandages and stuffed them into one of his saddle bags. "You are a prince of Greenwood the Great", he said. "The son of the Elven King and Queen. You have seen the Shadow, you have seen the goblins - you have even seen the Old One. All the other elves need you. What makes you think you can't?"

"I don't know how to speak in Councils", Legolas said and felt very small.

Radagast smiled and bent down until he could meet Legolas' gaze. His eyes were green and shifting, like moss under wind-stirred branches. "I would not ask this of you if I did not think you could do it. You know what needs to be said. You know what Greenwood needs. All you need to do is be honest."

Legolas fingered on the bandages on his hands. "I'll try then."

"That's the spirit." Radagast wrapped his arms around Legolas and lifted him, cloak and all,into the saddle, then swung himself up behind him. "No time to lose now. The White Council awaits!"

"What is this, Radagast?" Echail asked and took half a step to the side to block the door. Of the two doors at the back of the library, this wasn't the one that led to the map room where Erestor had had his first lesson, but the other one, that was usually locked.

"It is at it should be", Radagast said. "Let us in."

"But..."

Radagast looked at him sharply under bushy eyebrows, and Echail stiffened and stepped aside again, opening the door for them. Behind it was a broad spiral staircase. Radagast took Legolas by the arm and led him up the steps, walking slowly so that Legolas, stumbling on each step because his feet were so heavy, would manage all the way to the second door on top. Radagast gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before opening the second door. Legolas swallowed and stepped inside.

The sky opened above his head and he thought for a moment that he stood on a balcony; but it was only the glass dome above the astronomy tower, with the curtains pulled to the side. The room was large and circular, sparsely furnished but for a large round table in the middle, and around the table sat the White Council - all turning grave eyes towards the door. The silence that fell was tense.

"Radagast!" lord Elrond said, rising from his high-backed chair. "We did not expect..." His gaze fell on Legolas, who took a step to the side until he stood behind Radagast, feeling smaller than a squirrel in the palm of a dragon. The elf-lord paled. "What is the meaning of this?"

"The meaning?" Radagast asked. "That is just what I would ask you - what is the meaning of holding council before all its participants has arrived? But I am here now, and I bring another participant with me. Prince Legolas Thranduillion is here to speak for Greenwood the Great."

There went a shiver through the room; the elf-lords and the wizards exchanging glances. Saruman gripped his staff so hard with one hand his knuckles whitened. Glorfindel and Erestor stared first at Legolas, then at each other, as if to confirm that the other had heard the same thing. The elf-lord with the white beard - it must be Círdan, oldest of the old and wisest of the wise - tilted his head to the side so the seashells clattered against each other. Lady Galadriel half-turned; she stood a bit away from the round table as though she had been looking at the stars, and they were still visible in her eyes. And there was Gandalf. In his tattered hat and ragged grey robes he looked very much out of place - more so than Saruman who had the air of an elf-lord if not the look, but not as much as Radagast. Gandalf was quiet, but his eyes were glittering under the brim of his hat.

"I had the impression this was not the prince of Greenwood", Glorfindel said. "Mostly because he said so himself."

Radagast sighed. "He..."

"He is hurt", Erestor said, standing up. "He must be taken to the healing ward - what has happened?"

"Indeed, he must", said Saruman. "Radagast, what on earth made you bring the child here when he is clearly in need of rest and comfort? Not to mention you knew we would be holding council - whatever he has to say must wait until..."

"I am afraid, Saruman, it cannot wait", Radagast said, his voice darker than usual. "Legolas is the only representative of Greenwood present..."

"Because Greenwood is not represented among us! They ought not even to know -"

"But they do", Gandalf said, "because I told them this summer."

Saruman twirled around in his chair to glare at him. "And what gave you the right to do that?"

Legolas leaned against Radagast's side. If only the Council would stop quarrelling and let him speak so he could go to sleep. But for a long while they argued back and forth about Tinuhen and Greenwood and why Gandalf had told the Elven King and Queen and never once did they ask Legolas what it was he had to say. Radagast leaned wearily on his staff. What had he expected, anyway? Legolas was just a child. Maybe he should tell the Council they were right and he shouldn't be there and it would be better if he went to bed.

But he had to speak. For Greenwood. He had promised.

"If only this had not been done behind our backs", Saruman said and sounded like the parent of a disobedient child who isn't angry, just disappointed to be failed again. "If we had known prince Tinuhen was on his way, we might have let him speak - at least we could have planned for his arrival better. But we knew nothing. You told us nothing, Gandalf Grey, nor you, Radagast Brown. What does this say about the trust within the Council?"

Legolas looked up at him, opening his mouth to say that the wizard had indeed known, Legolas had told him himself - but lord Elrond caught his gaze and slowly, almost unnoticeably shook his head. Legolas hesitated. But lord Elrond looked so worried and ashamed that suddenly he understood... something, at least. Maybe lord Elrond did not want to lie, but in this circle of mighty and wise lords and ladies and wizards - slow to trust and swift to judge, careful and cunning and ambitious, all with their own interests to mind, all with their own ideas of what was good and right - he had no choice. If Saruman had decided that they had never been told Tinuhen was coming, maybe lord Elrond could not speak against him, not in public and not in the Council. Maybe he was too tangled in the webs of politics he could do little on his own.

Webs, Legolas thought. Wherever he turned there were webs - real ones like those in Greenwood, but also those that the traitor had thrown out over the mountains, trapping his friends, and through which he had only barely escaped, and the webs of secrets that the Council was made out of, that kept his parents out. And somewhere in the middle was the Old One, still hidden from sight, like a spider holding all the threads and pulling at them however he wished.

Lord Elrond released his gaze and spoke, his voice calm but firm.

"We cannot sit here arguing back and forth and while Legolas waits for our decision", he said. "Who has done wrong and why and how are questions that must be left for later. As for now we must decide what to do with Radagast's proposal."

Saruman hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "True spoken. The matter at hand, I believe, is whether Greenwood has a right or not to..."

"If I may", Glorfindel said, "I do not think we should focus too much on that word. Has the Elven King and Queen a right to attend our Council? Well, perhaps they have not? Our intention was never to include every kingdom or realm of the free peoples in Middle Earth. But Legolas is not here to claim his right but to beg for help, is that not so?"

"Truly", Erestor said, "the wood-elves have long tried to defend themselves, but they have not succeeded. It is our duty to help them."

Lord Elrond looked thoughtful. "If Greenwood needs our help, they shall have it, of course. I have waited long for them to overcome their pride and ask for hit. Still, there would be no need for them to ask for it at the White Council. Tell me, Radagast - it is not only help they want, is it?"

"But perhaps it is all they will have", said Círdan. "Great powers are at work, and we must be careful, as we always have. The child should never have been told of the Council. That alone is an indication that our Greenwood cousins do not understand the severity of the situation, nor the importance of secrecy. They will have our help, but must they have a place in the Council to receive it?"

"Ask rather if they must have a place in the Council to accept it", Gandalf said. "For that, I am afraid, they do. And ask what they can give us, instead of only what they want to give - what knowledge they have that can be of use to us..."

Saruman raised an eyebrow. "I ask that then, Gandalf. What knowledge do they have that can be of use to us? What does the sickness of some trees have in common with the powers with which we are concerned?"

Radagast opened his mouth to answer, and Saruman went on as if he had only waited for that: "Yes, Radagast, you have told us of your beliefs about the Shadow and the sorcerer of Dol Guldur, yet the Council has deemed them unlikely. The sorcerer is a man, naught more - his real power is insignificant. Do not tell me you have persuaded the wood-elves to believe?"

Legolas lifted his head and looked from Saruman to the others, meeting only stony, unbending faces. He had not understood just how little the Council knew about the Shadow. To think it was a sickness - but to them it was only a rumour, while to the wood-elves it was real.

He looked down, watching the snow melt in fine runnels from his shoes and down on the floor. His hands were aching again. He had went this far, through the Shadow and over the plains and the mountains - he had almost been killed in Netherford and then again just now - Quick-wing had died, Tuiw had died - all to get here, to this place, to this Council. They had suffered so much and the Council had no right to stop them on the threshold. And Legolas had promised father to help.

Someone in the Council had wanted to stop him.

Legolas could not let them win.

"I - I want to say something", he said, and when nobody heard he shouted: "Hey!"

That shut them up.

Legolas took a step forward. It had felt safe to stand behind Radagast and let him talk, but where had playing safe every got him? It had not brought him the bottle of Dorwinion wine, and it had never made him a friend of the twins.

"I know I'm not supposed to be here", he said. "And not my parent either. But now I am here and I have something to say and it's important. Tinuhen didn't only come here to ask for help. There's something you need to know, and you better listen, because I am after all the son of the only Elven King and Queen in Middle Earth." He looked mostly at Gandalf while he spoke, because the wizard he wasn't afraid of, but he knew that all of the Council was watching him. They were silent even when he paused to search for words.

"The Shadow", he said, "isn't a sickness at all. We don't know what it is but it has changed the forest more than a sickness could. It makes the trees black and twisted and the water bad and even the animals are... wrong. There are spiders - we didn't see them but we saw the webs... they're bigger than dogs, and there's lots of them. A sickness could not have done all that. It's... sorcery, or something like that, and it's very powerful. Not even my father can keep it away." He paused again. Lady Galadriel turned completely, looked straight at him, and he saw the stars deep in her eyes. He felt that she understood. She only waited for him to go on.

"This summer", he said, "my father sent scouts to the old fortress..."

"Dol Guldur?" Saruman interrupted him. "What madness possessed your father to send anyone near that place?"

"You said yourself the one who lives there is just a man", Legolas said. In the corner of his eye, he thought he caught Gandalf smiling into his beard. "But he isn't. Only one of the scouts that were sent away came back and he's - he's not... It was Laeros", he said, turning to lord Elrond. "He is on his way with Tinuhen because my parents hoped that you could heal him so he could tell us what he saw in Dol Guldur. He hasn't been able to say anything yet, but we know it must be terrible. And..." He hesitated again. There was so much that needed to be said, and he was so very tired - and he felt as though he balanced on the edge of a knife. He didn't dare to accuse anyone of being the traitor, but at the same time he knew he must tell them everything. Radagast gave his shoulder a squeeze.

Then Legolas took a deep breath and told the Council about Laeros - how he'd been found by the elves of the shadow-wood, stumbling blindly into one of their settlements and screaming at their fire, how he'd been brought to the Elvenking's Halls and fought against everyone who got near him, how eventually he'd calmed down but instead retreated within himself so that no one could get a word from him - and about Tuiw - the arrows in his back, the satchel with the message - and the avalanche; then, choosing his words carefully, about the black bird, the dagger in Netherford, the goblins and their two visitors, and finally the tawny owl and the scouts that had waited for him when he left Rivendell. It felt as though he spoke for hours. Towards the end he stumbled so many times over the words that Radagast, who had heard the story before, had to clarify some things. No one spoke when he finally trailed off, and then he remembered there was one thing more.

He looked at Radagast. "My father... you know more about him than I do, right?"

"Thranduil?" lord Elrond asked. "Has something happened to him?"

Radagast sighed. "It has, and I do. It is just as well you get to hear it now, little one." The Council fell silent again and Legolas trembled beside him, burying his face in his roughspun robe, when Radagast told them about how father had been attacked in the forest, and how he had been injured badly and Radagast hadn't been able to do much even after staying with him for many days - and then he told them about a blade, a blade that dissipated like smoke when mother touched it, leaving only a silver hilt adorned with a black jewel that seemed to eat all light that fell on it.

"Perhaps", he said sternly, "you will believe me now when I say that the sorcerer of Dol Guldur is no ordinary man."

The White Council was quiet for a long time. Lady Galadriel, calm as ever, furrowed her brow.

"These are grave tidings", she said quietly. "I should not say news, as you have known it for a long time, Radagast." Legolas had a feeling she was not very surprised. Father had never liked lady Galadriel, but Gandalf did, and maybe she had listened to him even if the Council had not. After a moment she lifted her head as though to clear it. "We have much to discuss, but we must do so in privacy. Legolas, is there anything else you have to tell us?"

"No... yes", Legolas said. "There was one thing more. When we rode through the shadow-wood we met some of the elves who lived there and one of them - Ninniach - told me that... she thought she knew why the Shadow came and why it doesn't spread outside the forest. She thought it was not made by the sorcerer, but by Greenwood herself, as a way of protection against it. That maybe the sorcerer would have made the forest fair, but the forest made itself ugly instead so everyone would be warned. So the spiders and the orcs are there but they don't own the forest. That was just what Ninniach thought though."

"I have heard it too", Radagast said. "Ninniach is a very wise woman."

"Anyway", said Legolas, "that means that... that the Shadow can't be cured. It won't go away until the sorcerer does. So that's what... that's what needs to happen."

Lady Galadriel nodded slowly. Gandalf looked pleased - the rest of the Council mostly thoughtful, as if they did not yet know what to think, but at least they had listened. Legolas didn't think there was anything more he could do.

"My parents", he said. "Next time you have council, will you invite them?"

"That", said lord Elrond, "is a matter of outmost secrecy. However..." He hesitated, then smiled faintly as though thinking that, in the end, there was nothing he could do but accept the turn of things, and maybe he wasn't only disappointed. "It appears we will have no peace or quiet before Greenwood has their way, and I know better than trying to out-stubborn your parents. We shall see. But you may be assured, Legolas, that we will not ignore what you have told us, and we will do anything in our power to help you."

"And so we will", said Gandalf with a firmness that dared anyone to try and ignore it. He looked at Legolas, smiling so proudly that for a moment it seemed that he would cry. "You have done well, little one - much more than anyone could have expected of you. The rest you can leave to us. I believe what you need now is to sleep."

Radagast nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. "I think we should get you to the healing ward. They can give you something to ease the pain if you need it - and you will not have to sleep alone."

"Yes, I think that would be best", Saruman said. "But I would not gladly delay our discussions yet again. Let Echail take him to the healing ward, Radagast. We can be without him for a while."

Legolas swallowed. He hadn't told them about Echail, and he doubted they would believe him. It was obvious that Echail hadn't been in the mountains anyway. "I - I'll find the way myself. Thank you."

The helmet of Legolas of Gondolin glinted dully on its pedestal. The shards of the broken sword caught the moonlight and scattered it across the room and over the smooth marble floor; the painting behind it was half in light, half in shadows. A tapetsry billowed, so it seemed the skillfully woven horses moved, and the banners of their riders rippled and snapped in the silk-thread air.

Legolas sank down on the edge of a bench and sat there for a long while, shivering despite the fur cloak tugged tight around him. The way to the healing ward felt impossibly long, and besides, he didn't really want to go there. He was certain they would give him something to sleep, and though he wanted desperately to sleep he didn't dare to. If he fell asleep he would be helpless. He never wanted to be helpless again.

Longing for something to take his mind off the ache beneath all the bandages, he unclasped the gold brooch from the inside of his cloak and let it lay in his palm, tilting it so the moonlight moved over the intricate pattern. He still could not figure out where he had seen it before. It didn't look elven, but Echail still came to mind... Some memory tugged at the back of his mind but he was too tired to think.

Someone called his name from the far end of the corridor, and Legolas flew up, his heart tightening in fear - but it was Tilwine, coming around the corner with Scead one step behind him. They wore thick cloaks and gloves and Scead had snow all the way up to his knees. They must have been outside for - some reason...

"Legolas", Tilwine said, grinning from ear to ear as though he'd just left the feasting and wasn't entirely sober. "What are you doing here? Is the Hall of Fire too noisy for you?"

"Here", Scead said, brushing past him with a concerned frown, "what has happened? Are you injured?"

Legolas swallowed. Scead walked up to him and swept him into his arms, and suddenly he had tears burning in his eyes again and he was so heavy, so heavy he couldn't stand on his own.

"How did this happen?"

Legolas did not know how to answer. "I, uh... it's nothing. I can't tell you. I don't... I don't know."

"It's all right. Hey, don't worry, it's fine."

"Have you been to the healers?" Tilwine asked, taking his bandaged hands. "What did they tell you?"

Legolas blinked; he could barely keep his eyes open. "I didn't..."

"What is that?"

"What is what?"

"That brooch", Tilwine said. "Where did you find it?"

"In the mountains", Legolas replied and turned it over in his hands so it caught the light. "I was... I met..." He did not know how to explain, so he did not. "I don't know why I kept it, but somehow I recognised it." He looked up at Tilwine, who smiled down on him, but something about the way he stood had gone tense. Scead's grip around him tightened. Legolas felt cold spread from his chest and outwards. "Like I... like I had seen it before."

And as he looked from the man to the brooch again, he knew where, and why he had not recognised it earlier. That was because he was not used to seeing it alone.

Its twin was still fastened to the collar of Tilwine's cloak.

Dun dun DUN

So sorry for the lack of updates guys. I've been so drained and out of inspiration :/ I will try my best not to leave you waiting for too long. Thank you for your patience 3