Dedication: To guest reviewer CrazyCats, who back in chapter 18, gave me this wonderful idea to write a chapter in Aegnir's POV, and also, special thanks to everyone who showed some love for my much loved Aegnir! Thank you! Rock on!

And thank you, as usual, to my amazing beta chaoticviolin who helped me with this chapter (and co-wrote the opening scene! *_*)!

Just so anyone won't get confused, this chapter is in Aegnir's POV.


Five: Henio


Aegnir shifted back and fourth on the balls of his feet, trying to keep both his legs and feet from cramping or falling asleep. He kept his breath quiet and peered through the leaves, his ears straining for the slightest abnormality in the forest sounds.

The young elf had been in his crouching position for what felt like hours, all of his senses on high alert. But he knew the young prince was near, hidden in the thick leaves of the trees.

Just as he relaxed his stance, there was a slight break in the natural sounds of wildlife, his elvish ears picking up the falter easily. He smoothly moved his hands up to grasp the hilt of the short sword resting on his back, the rest of his body unmoving.

At the sound of a sudden gust of wind in the leaves behind him, Aegnir spun around on the thin branch he crouched on, drawing his sword at the same time. He lashed out low in front of him, aiming to incapacitate the legs he knew would be there. But he grunted as his sword cut through nothing but air, the prince he was aiming for leaping above the path of the sword and landing back on the branch without so much as a wobble in his step.

Aegnir clenched his sword and lifted his arms above him, blocking the attack made for the top of his head. Pushing against the blades, he rose to his feet, shoving Legolas back in the process. The prince stepped back with ease, twirling his blades and blocking any attack aimed for him swiftly and easily. The two elves danced around each other high above the lush grass, both stepping around the branch they stood on as if it was flat land beneath their feet. Their weapons clashed over and again, singing their metallic melodies. No human would have been able to see them, their movements too graceful and fast to see.

It took only one careless step for Aegnir to fall, his only weapon flying in the process. The wind gushed as his body descended to the earth, but, close to the ground, he managed to twist in the air and land on his feet. The prince jumped and landed beside him almost immediately. Behind Legolas' Aegnir could see his weapon gleaming as it lay on the soil. He tore his gaze away from it and he locked eyes with the prince for a split second before they were both in motion, blonde and brown blurs. Aegnir was so close to his sword when a dagger rooted itself a centimetre away from his foot, causing Aegnir to stumble.

Legolas came swiftly after, retrieving his short sword from the ground and moving it to his neck in one fell swoop.

Two daggers. One, he could feel directly on his skin, it was cold and sharp, teasing his neck. If the prince beside him pushed just a little bit further, it would have cut so easily through his flesh. The other was positioned by his stomach, the thin metal pushing through his clothes. Aegnir lowered his gaze slowly as he watched the shining objects, his hands, however, hung limp uselessly at his sides. His weapons had fallen only moments ago.

"I told you, did I not? In these training grounds, I am not your prince, nor am I your friend. I am an enemy you must destroy," the prince withdrew his daggers and secured them at his back. "You have gone too easy on me, Aegnir."

Aegnir did not reply. Instead, he frowned as he bent to pick his own daggers from the grassy floor. He had not gone easy on the prince, he had fought with all his strength, like death itself was on his door. But he would not tell Legolas that. He would not give him that pleasure. This was the first time that he had sparred with the elven prince. And he knew now that his skills were renowned for a reason. Aegnir could blame his loss to many other reasons, like the fact that he had been training since they finished eating lunch, and it was now dusk. Or that he was younger and more inexperienced than the prince. But at the end of it all, he knew that the cause for his loss was simple: the prince was a better fighter.

Legolas was watching the heavens when Aegnir rose. "We will train again tomorrow, and in tomorrows that follow, until I am the one left with my daggers on the ground," he said, his gaze leaving the graying skies. "Now, let us walk to the halls. There is something I must speak to you of."

It had been months since Aegnir and his mother arrived to the realm, but he had never shared words with the prince. They had never spoken, not until Legolas had approached him for a spar earlier that day. "Of course, ernil nin," he replied, and together they walked towards the kingdom.

"I have heard that before you came here you lived in Avallone, is that true?" Legolas asked, after they had walked half of the distance.

"Yes," Aegnir answered, not knowing what else to say.

"But your father, he is from Ethellin?"

"Yes," Aegnir replied yet again, wondering why the prince had taken sudden interest in his past.

When Legolas did not answer immediately, it was he who asked the next question. "But I have never been there, as my father died before I was born. He and his friends were ambushed at the borders of Avallone. My mother is grieved by it, and often she would speak to me of his deeds. But it is difficult to love a ghost, especially one you have never seen," he stopped, surprised at his sudden sentiment. He cleared his throat, "Have you ever gone there, ernil nin? They say it is a beautiful place. Small, yes, but the elves there were very welcoming."

"I am sorry to hear of your father," Legolas said first. "But I have never gone to Ethellin either. It is why I came to speak with you, I was wondering whether you could tell me more of it."

"Ah," Aegnir considered, thinking back to all the times his mother had spoken to him of the village. "As I told you earlier, it is a very small dwelling. Not more than fifty elves live there, and many of them are elven-smiths," he gripped the dagger that was in his belt. "Our weapons were made there, and I suspect that many others in this kingdom came from there as well. They have a leader, but I forget his name. He was a very skilled smith, but my mother told me that he was very proud. Much to the point that she disliked him," he stopped himself again, knowing that he had veered away from what he was supposed to be speaking of. "They live very near the western sea, and so the smell of the water and the cries of the seagulls would inhabit much of their waking hours. My mother tells me it is a very beautiful place, and often wishes that we had gone there so I would see it myself. But of course you must know that," he gave a quick glance to the prince. "I have heard that the queen would often visit there?"

"Yes, she does. And she has often invited me to go with her," Legolas said. Aegnir could only see his back as the prince walked ahead of him. "She tells me tales similar to what you have said, but often I think she says them only to convince me to go with her. Now I believe that she may have been telling me the truth," he paused. "I have always wanted to gaze at the sea."

Aegnir nodded, although he knew that Legolas would not see him. "I as well," they were quiet after he spoke, but for the first time, he felt as if Legolas was more than the distant prince he had known him to be. He muddled in his thoughts for a while, until a curious thought occurred to him, and he asked another question. "Has the king ever visited Ethellin?"

"No." Legolas paused, halting in his path and Aegnir stopped in his tracks as well. Then the prince looked back, "Somehow, it is difficult for even myself to imagine my father being anywhere else but his throne room."

Aegnir stared, not knowing how to react. He had heard many of the other elves often make remarks about the Elvenking, but this was Legolas, his own son. He almost ignored the comment, almost kept it in his mind for many of the mysteries of the young prince behind him.

But Legolas smiled, the first of many smiles he would see until the darkness overtook them all. And Aegnir smiled back.

"Aegnir?" Tauriel's voice broke through the fragile waters of his memory. "You're off to one of your dreams again," she said. He could hear her smile. He had thought the singing of the elves in the dark of the night outweighed every other sound in Middle Earth, but that was only until he heard her smile.

"Forgive me," he muttered as he looked at her, his eyes finally focusing on her face.

A curious expression was in her eyes. "What were you thinking of?" she asked.

He leaned his back on the bridge's balustrades and crossed his arms, shielding his chest. He found it funny that he remembered so much of one day but only a blur of so many centuries in his life. "The prince," he said, and she rose a brow in response. "I was thinking of when we first met," he smiled at the memory. He had not thought about it before, but the memory reminded him how little the stoic prince had changed over the years, but also how much the sorrow had weighed on him now. It was, after all, Legolas' smile that had brought them together as friends. And he had not seen that smile, not for many years. "Did I tell you he would never have spoken with me, if not for his mother?"

Tauriel did not reply, but continued watching him.

"He rarely spoke to anyone unless his curiosity paved him into speaking with them. In my case, I suppose it was his love for his mother that forced him to do it."

"Yes," Tauriel nodded thoughtfully. Her eyes glazed at she stared momentarily at the sky, as if remembering a memory that brought her sadness. "I know he holds great affection for her. I remember when he told me about his mother. He was still hurting, then, when he spoke of her," she lowered her eyes. "In all the time that we had been together, he has mentioned her only once," she smiled as she looked at him again. "They tell me that she was very beautiful."

Aegnir nodded without hesitation. "She was. Fairer than so many. A queen she was, indeed."

Tauriel frowned, shaking her head. "It is a tragedy, that her death came to her on her travels. Too many have died on the road," she said quietly, glancing down at her feet. "But I do not know if it would have been any consolation had she died in her home."

Aegnir looked at her, observing the way she ground the toe of her boot into the grass in thought. "On her travels?" he asked curiously.

"Yes," Tauriel looked up at him, surprised. "That is what Legolas told me before." Upon his wordless response, she frowned, and caught his eye. "What is it?"

"In another day, I would not have told you. But you are a member of this kingdom now, you are my brethren, Lord Thranduil is your king, and therefore she is your queen," he sighed as he looked away, turning to clasp his hands and lean his forearms on the banister behind him. "I am surprised he has not told you yet."

"Told me what?" she inquired further, marching to his side and pressing her back to the railing, her eyes boring into his own.

"We had not known, until seven years ago when travellers visited us from Ethellin." He remembered the small troupe of elves, with worn clothing and weary faces. "We did not expect them, for up until then we believed that those who dwelt in it had long sailed to the west, or else had hidden from all in Middle Earth, for no one had seen them in many years, not even my mother."

Tauriel nodded. "Lord Elrond has told me their story, of how the elves left and Ethellin all but disappeared. But he also told me that there was a mystery to it that he could not see," her brows furrowed at the memory. "He told me that there must have been a reason for their collapse. But Ethellin was too far away from Imladris, and more so from Lothlorien for anyone to have ever known what had happened."

Aegnir was silent. And then, "We know what happened."

Tauriel watched him, her eyes widened.

"It is a sad tale," Aegnir closed his eyes, and his eyebrows furrowed. The pain of the truth returned as fresh as the moment they learned of it. "It was not in the journey to Ethellin that the queen died, but in Ethellin itself."

He opened his eyes and watched as Tauriel gasped and looked away, taking a few steps. Aegnir saw how her eyes watered, and the green of them was obscured by the fog of her tears that did not fall.

"She was killed by the very elves she wished to help," he smiled sardonically, swivelling on his foot to gaze at her tense back. "But it has difficult for the King and Prince. It still is. Many who don't understand wonder at the king's detachment. But only when we look at the stories behind people do we realize choices are rarely made carelessly. Only when we look do we realize it is not so difficult to understand why the king has chosen this life of seclusion. He and Legolas have never spoken of it, but their past has driven their present lives, and their coldness roots from pain so deep."

"I have learned truths that made me think different towards the world," she turned her head, and he saw how her face paled all the more. "Those were his words. They were naught but riddles before, but now I see clearly. It must have been so painful. So painful for him and the king to find the truth," she looked away from him again and down at her trembling hands. "It is no question now why he has been so angry at me, and at the world."

Aegnir nodded, understanding her sentiments. He had watched the change overtake his friend as well. The king had gone first, isolating not only himself, but the whole kingdom. It was not only the forest that had become darker, but also the realm. The elves followed in his track, as solitude rooted to their beings and the world existed as the confines of the kingdom's borders. His friend was not an exemption, he became harder, a perfect reflection of the king on his throne. "Yes. It was very difficult, for this cold shell is not who he truly is." But he knew that not everything Tauriel said was true. "But he was never angry at you, Tauriel. Never," he said softly, aware of the clenching in his chest as he spoke.

Tauriel turned to him, dropping her hands to her sides and smiling as he spoke, as if he had told her a joke. "Of course he was. And it does not matter now, Aegnir. He..." she looked away. "We have spoken, and everything is in the past now," she smiled. He was thankful she was looking away, for he did not want her to see what he knew would be hurt clearly etched on his face. He had known of what had happened. He had known. Nobody told him, but it was clear that the two had begun speaking again. He knew when Tauriel approached the King, finally asking for details of what had happened to her mother. He knew, for he was the one who had told Legolas to seek her.

"I am thankful it is all behind us now," Tauriel said when he did not speak, her eyes once again watching the grassy floor beneath her. "It was difficult for me, knowing that my choice hurt him like that. But now I am glad that I made it, for I have learned so much," She looked up and past him as a faraway gaze came to her eyes. "But then again, it was because of him that my mother's death became understandable for me. But I did not know that his words came from a wound he himself received before."

Aegnir watched her. Her smiles were still not the same smiles she had before, but there was light back in her eyes. He had known that the pain had affected her so, but he knew also that the pain would heal, slowly. Like the fall of a leaf, straying one way or the other as the wind directs it. It would never really completely heal, he realized, but he knew that it was getting better. It was getting better, and not because of him.

He smiled ruefully, as he looked away from her. "What is so amusing?" she asked, her face looked even younger with her curiosity.

He shook his head.

She gave him a look before her gaze shot to the skies as the rays of the sun flashed a bright red, glowing beautifully before it withdrew to the darkness of the night. Just then, a shadow emerged from the forest, and Aegnir knew who the figure was before he even came to the light.

"You're on time," Tauriel smiled.

"I am not like you, to dally and make others wait," Legolas said to her. Then he nodded at Aegnir. "Meginor will follow. He visited the Eastern gate first."

"That is typical of him. He will find any reason to miss the guard," Aegnir smiled back. As Tauriel healed from the loss of her mother, he and Legolas had also regained their friendship, if it had ever been lost to begin with. Aegnir knew their squabble had been nothing but a temporary contest, a childish game meant to find who would be the winner.

"You know him well," Legolas smiled back, stopping as he reached them. He then turned to Tauriel. "I will wait for you there," he told her, before walking into the realm, the great gates opening for him.

"Are you sure you will not join us?" Tauriel asked Aegnir, when Legolas' footsteps faded into the kingdom.

"I am," he smiled at her, though his lips seemed burdened to do so. It had become a ritual for Tauriel and Legolas to spend the evenings in the training grounds, though everyone knew that both did not need it. Tauriel had grown to be a fighter in her stay at Lothlorien, so much that Aegnir knew there was little difference in their skills. "I do not think Legolas would need another friend to wait for."

She laughed softly, her voice seeming like melodies to his ears. "No, I suppose he does not," a gentle look came on her face as she gazed at the gate Legolas had disappeared to. "I cannot count the number of times he has had to wait for me, but I am lucky he does not grow tired of it," she said softly.

"He will never grow tired of it." He looked at her, and the expression on her face stopped him. She was smiling, and in her eyes he saw nothing but contentment and joy—it was a look he had never seen on her face when she was with him, no matter how hard he tried. He clenched his fists in his crossed arms, his nails digging into his palm, and he was thankful there was no strain on his voice when he next spoke. "And neither will you," he said softly, realizing the truth in his words as he spoke them.

She cocked her head, and the gentle expression disappeared from her face as she looked at him curiously. "What?"

"Nothing," he shook his head, as he restrained himself from laughing at the fool that was himself. It was amusing, truly, how things had turned out. That he had to suffer with this knowledge, while she herself did not realize it yet.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, knowing that this was as close as he was ever going to get to her. "You should go."

She smiled back warmly at him before walking away, following after the prince.

He watched as she left, the only sound remaining being the rushing water beneath him. His eyes were unblinking, and his heart as heavy as the stones resting at the bottom of the river.

END OF CHAPTER


A/N: So it seems my idea to have elvish words as titles is backfiring (ouch). It's really difficult to find words that match your original plan, especially if because of the limited vocabulary Tolkein left for us all. Still, I'm kinda enjoying it because I'm learning so much of the elvish language.

Forgive me for any errors in this chapter. I am incredibly sleepy and am tempted to crash into bed as I have to get up early (we'll be joining a competition tomorrow, wish me luck!). I promise to look over it again when I get back on Monday. For now, I promised a five day gap, so here it is! I will not be breaking my first promise of the year. Lol

The title of this chapter, Henio, means to understand.

Warm hugs to everyone who's left reviews, both for the last chapter, and for the older chapters! You guys are my inspiration (tears).

Vee