TRYING TO PUSH THE PAST AWAY
BOOK ONE
DISCLAIMER: I do not own „Lord Of The Rings". Whole recognizable belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. Written only for fun, no money made.
WARNINGS: Beware Author's lack of knowledge about horses. But I remind this is a world of fiction.
Chapter 12: HIDDEN NATURE OF MISUNDERSTANDINGS
/*/
"Oh, please… where are you taking me I demand to know," Legolas was sulking. Being led by Verién, he had his right hand entrapped in a fierce hold and was being pulled forward, all his pleas or threats futile. They have walked out of the palace.
"Demand?" Verién giggled. "That's good to hear. Finally some spirit."
"Instead of teasing me, tell me where we are going!" Legolas rolled his eyes, unwillingly trotting behind her.
"To the archery grounds. Not far; just behind the stables, you must know where it is." She said, giving him a flash of her bright smile. "I want you to meet someone."
Legolas immediately tensed. He felt uneasy outside the safe confinement of the palace and meeting someone unknown was an additional stress. Once again he tried to break free, but did not succeeded and with a depressed sigh kept his eyes trained on the ground, paying no attention to the passing surroundings.
Soon they reached the long, green field, secluded with a thin, but impervious barrier of a hedgerow. It was quite high and reached well above a grown Elf's waist. There was a neatly made entrance behind a wooden arch, occupied by a meander of ivy. A little further he spotted a few small houses painted in red, where all supplies were kept. Several Elves meeting them on their way nodded their hello and Gwaithtir waved a hand from far away. Seemingly he had come here for a little training also. Legolas shyly returned the gesture.
Verién led him to the very end of the shorter side of the field. Here, preoccupied with firing arrow after arrow, stood two identical Elves. They both had dark brown hair, adorned with the royal braids of Imladris, just like those Lord Elrond was wearing so often. They were moving in similar way, their excited voices were very much alike and the air around them spoke about close familiarity. The way they were holding themselves, addressing one another – an affectionate speech of more or less obvious insults – indicated that they were either very close friends or brothers. In the second Legolas saw them from afar he could suspect as much. But it was when he saw their faces he knew who they are – he was looking at the twin sons of Lord Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir. The similarity to their Sire was obvious.
"Hey 'Ro, look who's coming," one of them pulled the other one's sleeve. Both Elves turned to the approaching Verién and the person she was hauling behind her.
"Hi little sister," the one on the left spoke. "We were waiting for you. Who's there with you?"
"Someone I'd like you to meet," she said and pulled Legolas more to the front. "Here. This is Legolas, a new resident in Rivendell. Uncle Elrond had taken care of him in the infirmary for a long time, but now he is up and about. He has spent only two months in here."
"Welcome, then," one of the twins said and grabbed a hold of Legolas' forearm in a warrior greeting. "My name is Elladan. I'm glad to meet you, Legolas."
"I am Elrohir," the other one said, repeating his brother's gesture. "It is nice to see you, Verién has been talking a lot about you. Her friends are our friends."
All three noted that Legolas was stiff and rigid as if frozen and endured the touch only because these were his betters. His voice was faltering when he spoke the well-taught, polite greeting phrase, going down on his knees before his superiors. Verién made a movement as if she wanted to haul him up, and the twins stared at him in complete astonishment.
"No, no, Legolas, do not kneel before us," the one called Elladan said quickly, having recovered from the shock sooner than his brother. "We want to treat you as an equal. There is no need to do this."
They have both leaned down and helped Legolas up, although he would have rather stayed there for the rest of the day, hiding behind Verién, so that he could remain invisible. He bowed low in response to Elladan's words, not understanding their meaning yet again, but nevertheless recognizing the soothing tone that was used and behaviour so similar to Elrond's.
"Are you afraid, Legolas?" Elrohir asked gently. "Do not be. We are sons of Elrond, we won't do you any harm."
"I have brought you here to meet someone new, Legolas. So that they can befriend you like I did," Verién said, rubbing the thin arm. "Relax. Nothing wrong is happening. Well?" she searched with her eyes for his eyes, and when he finally gathered enough courage to hold her gaze, he gave a very weak smile. It was clearly seen that he felt uncomfortable and would gladly return to washing dishes.
It was Elladan who saved the whole situation.
"Come on, we can take a little break in our spar. I have brought some water and rice bread to the field, let's sit for a while." He led the three into the wooden pavilion in the very corner of the field, few meters down the road. The small building was thoroughly overgrown by honeysuckle and jasmine and offered some pleasant shade. Rough wooden benches placed around the octagon structure invited one to sit down; a convenient table in the middle was of a circular shape and had only one leg made of fair, carved wood.
Legolas sat near Verién, cautiously keeping to whom he already knew. The table was a very good idea, he concluded, noting that it would not be possible to launch at or attack anyone quickly enough to avoid a painful hit in the hip or pelvis when encountering the center-piece. But as far the twins were calm and good-natured, showing no signs of aggression, courteously allowing Legolas to keep distance from them. They kept sending him curious glances, but without malicious underlining.
Small leather cups were produced from Elladan's bag, as well as a good flask of water and a bundle of rice bread as mentioned. His brother poured some of the water into the cups and divided the snack between them. Legolas was thirsty, but would rather wait until the twins drank first. Verién seemed to have read this thought, for she raised her water so that he could clearly see it and drank it all without hesitation. Only then Legolas dared to follow her example.
"We heard you come from Mirkwood," Elrohir asked slowly. "Is that true?"
"Yes, my Lord," Legolas whispered.
"Please, forego any title, alright? We want to be your friends, no need to put any more distance between us." Elladan advised and his brother gave an encouraging nod.
"We have never been in the Mirkwood forest. We heard tales, though," Elrohir continued his thought. "About deep and dangerous thicket of trees and bushes, giant spiders residing in the darkness, magical traps laid for intruders. Maybe you could tell us more about this mysterious realm." He asked politely, settling for a fairly safe ground of conversation.
"I… have been in the forest only few times, when we were cutting down the trees. We needed wood… to build the fortress and the household buildings. I hated that work, for trees… trees have always been dear to me…" Legolas swallowed thickly. "Anyway, I have never been in the deep woods, Sir…"
"Elrohir," the twin said with a small smile. "No Sir."
Legolas nodded gloomily, without looking at his new acquaintances. When Verién laid a hand on his arm, he raised his eyes to her.
"But you can hear the trees speaking, don't you? You are a woodelf." She pointed. That made both of the twins gasp silently and caused a new set of excited questions.
"You can hear them always? Whenever you come close to one? Or do you need to focus very hard to hear?"
"And what are they saying? Can you respond, so that you can talk?"
"Do they understand what you are saying? Are you using your voice in the first place, or rather think a clear message and they read it?"
"How are you doing this, Legolas? It's wonderful! Not many Noldor can do that, I think even Ada would have problems," they kept asking. Legolas blinked rapidly, quite unbelieving that he impressed them. He started talking, sending them an amazed stare that anyone would take interest in him. He discovered that it was a pleasant feeling.
"I have always heard the trees. I hear their whispers as they are far away, melting in a continuous, melodic rustle, that way I used to fall asleep in… in the cellars. We had small windows near the ceiling, and we heard… the trees' song." The twins nodded, Verién was observing him kindly. He started talking, that was good.
"To hear one voice of the tree I need to come closer. When I sit on the branches, the voice is stronger. It hums in my head, as if it was flowing in through one ear and out through the other," Legolas smiled. "I can respond either in speech or thought. But I prefer thoughts, they understand it better, and the emotion attached…"
The twins glanced to one another, overawed and surprised.
"Does the speech of the trees in Imladris differ from the Mirkwood's one?" Elladan asked.
Legolas held his eyes. "Yes, it does." He said silently. "The trees here speak of sun, of birds and nests, of greenery, of fresh water. Here land is rich with water. They are safe. They grow until they are high and proud. The older the tree, the more clear its voice is," Legolas explained. "In Mirkwood almost every tree had its own voice. Here I see many saplings, having no voice of their own yet."
There was a pause. No one hurried him; Legolas sighed, hesitating. His voice was shaking a bit when he started talking again.
"The song of the trees here is lively during the day. Only in the evening they become more nostalgic. I… miss the sad song of spruces… they were always willing to listen, they were… compassionate."
Silence occurred. Finally Elrohir sighed and drained his cup quickly.
"It's a great gift, Legolas. Great indeed. I would be glad to be able to hear a tree speaking to me. My brother heard it once," the Elf gestured at his twin, "and he said it was a thrilling experience."
"Only once," Elladan murmured, "I had to be very focused, very calm, it was a bit like meditative state. But it was wonderful. To be able to hear trees without problem, just so… you amazed me, Legolas," he said with a respectful bow of his head, "for I know for certain that though this skill is especially woodelves' domain, some of them don't hear the trees at all lately."
"True," said Legolas somberly.
"If I may suggest something," Verién spoke, "maybe we should find a bow for Legolas? A light one, so that he can try archery."
"Great idea!" Elrohir jumped on his feet immediately and, as Legolas predicted earlier, hit of the table with his thigh. Uttering a pained curse, he stumbled out of the pavilion, hurried by his laughing brother.
The friends led Legolas to one of the red-painted houses and were greeted by the guards sitting there. They were taking care of the armours and weaponry stored inside, and as the duty was a rather boring one, they produced some cards and foursome was deeply immersed in a game.
"Oh ho," Elladan snorted as he saw this, "what a pity we hadn't came earlier! You play for money?"
"No," one of the guards grinned, "for grog."
"May we borrow two bows?" Verién asked, slowly walking along the walls fastened with great number of weapons. She stopped near one longbow from yew wood and took it in hand, testing its power with her fingers.
"This one would be too stiff for you, lass, you need much strength to pull this string," one of the guards stood up, abandoning the cards. His companions immediately checked what he was holding with totally innocent faces.
"It would be just right," she said stubbornly. "I have a bow very similar to this one. Now, what we need is a light bow for Legolas," she resumed her wandering along the walls. The guard told Legolas to stretch out his right hand and tested his muscles. The Elf was slightly apprehensive, giving the guard a scared glare, but he only laughed at his expression and handed him a short bow of fair wood, putting the string in its correct place.
"This will suit him," he said and returned to the table. "Take some arrows from the corner and please retrieve them after the training. What the… which one of you touched my cards! Speak quickly!"
Before they could be involved in any fight, the twins, Legolas and Verién walked out with the bows and arrows. Now Elladan and Elrohir were leading the way, chatting merrily, and soon Legolas saw they were coming closer to the wicker wall of painted targets. When they were a little more than halfway to them, they stopped and armed their bows.
"Here, this is for you," Verién said and handed the short bow to Legolas. He gave her a scared look.
"Listen, I don't know if I can… I am not allowed to touch any weapon, especially one that kills from afar… Verién, Master won't like it…"
"Master? What Master?" Elladan asked suddenly.
"Lord Elrond," Verién said quickly. "I am sure he wouldn't…"
"You call our father 'Master'?" demanded Elladan. "Ai Valar!"
"But he is my Master," Legolas stammered quietly, taking a step back.
The twins were just about pursuing this matter and getting this wretched idea out of Legolas' mind, but Verién stopped them quickly.
"Don't mess in his head! Elladan, Elrohir! This is your Father's thing to explain and his matter to decide when," she stated firmly and thus ended the discussion, even if the two brothers stared wide-eyed and dismayed at their new friend a good while longer.
"Alright now," the girl added in much gentler tone, "do not concern yourself with Lord Elrond's wrath, for none of this will happen. He would approve that you start to get familiar with the art of archery, which fames your woodland kin. Take the bow."
Behind her the twins smiled encouragingly, and so Legolas shyly extended a hand. The bow was light, albeit heavier than it seemed. Its polished surface was delicately adorned with a trail of delicate, darker leaves.
"Good. Now, take an arrow," Elladan passed him the full quiver, "and I will show you how to fire it. Grip the bow fiercely just a bit below its middle, now adjust the arrow… like this," the Elf showed, standing behind the blonde and directing his hands. Legolas moved away at first, feeling sudden panic rising at the feeling of a hard and muscled, definitely male body being pressed to his back, but tried to control himself. Fear had not left him, but he discovered Elladan did not stay pressed to him any second longer than needed. He took it as a good sign and abiding his instructions, fired an arrow.
And failed miserably, of course. The arrow didn't fly at all, only fell from his fingers as soon as he let the bowstring go. Elladan helped him rearrange it, take aim, corrected the way his fingers held the feathery tip.
"Pull it harder," he advised. "And try to aim a bit higher, it will fly further this way… Like that," Elladan moved away. "Now fire it!"
Some time they struggled to let the arrows in the air, but finally succeeded. Elladan was proud and grinned happily at the first hit into the target Legolas gave. Elrohir and Verién were firing arrow after arrow into the neigbour target on the right from a longer distance and argued cheerfully about the score each of them got. Elladan beamed at his student, who was managing better and better and even started to enjoy this new activity, which wasn't as hard as he imagined.
"Practice makes perfection," Elladan laughed happily. "The best archers I know are not the most talented ones. It's work and experience that make the best," he said, patting Legolas' arm in a friendly gesture.
"Y-y-you think so, Elladan?" the Elf hesitantly asked, the name foreign on his tongue, but the joy unhidden.
"Sure I do! Hey you two, come and see how great Legolas is doing!" Elladan called to his brother and cousin. They both came closer in curious attention. Now being under stress of observation Legolas failed to give a nice shot, but being encouraged fervently again he pulled himself together and fired. The arrow hit the red circle in the target – far from the centre, but still there it was, fiercely embedded in the surface of the tri-color painted disc.
"Hey, dear brothers," Verién said with a smile, coming closer to the target. "He is good!"
"You have a talent, Legolas. That was amazing, really… Provided you are using a bow for the first time…" Elrohir said, patting Legolas' arm friendly and smiling.
"Jealous, brother?" Elladan whispered to his brother's ear and received a kick.
"I… thank you," Legolas turned slightly red, a visible proof that he was flattered.
"What about that: would you like to practice with us? We are here almost every afternoon, so if you choose to learn, we will be glad to help you," the twins proposed. Legolas agreed happily; a completely forgotten feeling returned now with full force. He was proud of himself. He stole a glance in the happy eyes of Verién and in that instant he knew that there had been nothing to fear from the beginning.
Maybe I should stay out of the palace more, he concluded, caressing the polished, fair surface of the first bow he had held in his hands.
/*/
What have happened? How was that even possible? Had he done something to make up for the sins of his past? How come he was being given so much, when he obviously didn't deserve any of it? Maybe the Valar made a mistake and allowed all these wonderful things to happen to the wrong person, maybe out there was someone waiting for it, and Legolas was ruining it?
Such thoughts ran through the fair, disbelieving head when his days went flying by with the three friends in the most beautiful Elven realm he had ever seen. There must have been some kind of misunderstanding, he concluded, but he was so unwilling to know its core. He would so much prefer never to find out the reason of this misdoing and keep his friends with him. He knew it was yet another transgression against the fate and it only added to heavy his conscience, but he could not help but go with the twins and Verién on yet another escapade.
New friendship worked like a balm on his wounded soul. Waking in the morning he knew he would not be forced into another full day of work with no one to talk to, for there was always Verién pottering about in the kitchens. She was helping with what she could, whether it was hanging out the washing or some field work. Whatever she was doing, she was humming or singing and Legolas used to locate her during his work relying on his ears. Neremiel was also more funny and happy as she had a good friend to help her in the kitchen; the two girls were giggling and gossiping and Legolas had to subdue a smile many a time, listening to their conversation.
The twin sons of Elrond were helping at court. Their Adar, proud and satisfied that they returned, eagerly included them in his council and order daily routine. They were of a big help to him, being responsible and dependable; they shared the knowledge from Lórien with the nobles, discussed about politics and actual maneuvers of the biggest Elven realms in Arda. In the name of their Sire they listened to petitioners and handled smaller matters, but always reported everything solemnly to Ada. The duty they liked the most, however, was carrying messages and gathering information on riding patrols. They could never tire of this and longed for the army duty every time they were enclosed in a cool council hall with a hundred of nobly boring councilors.
But as their work ended, they used to grab Legolas out of the kitchens or his room and search for Verién. As the four was together, summer seemed to smile with joy upon them. For Legolas these moments were the most precious and he awaited them every day with a fierce longing. He stopped fearing every new morrow, even if it held surprises and changes rather too quick as for his liking. He was not alone. With every passing day he learned to trust his new friends more and was unwilling to let go of the thought that they had chosen to be in his presence willingly. After a few weeks of such treatment he started to seek them out himself and was never rebuked.
They had taken him to the stables, but not to work, only to teach him horse riding. They chose Verién's horse, as the mare was gentle and seemed to like him. First thing he did was to ask for her species.
"Oh, she is a little bastard, like her rider," Verién sighed, tenderly petting the mare behind the left ear. "She is rather plump and stumpy, isn't she? That's because her Sire was of Rohan's horse masters' type. Her mother though was a common mountain pony. That way she has so much fur, rich fetlocks, she is short and quite lazy. Although she has a stamina of a battle horse and agility of the mountain trekker, as well as his shrewdness and wit, and can go long even in the cold of winter." The girl smiled, giving her mare a lump of sugar. "Is it not so, my dear Roachie? We are both one of the kind. The best from the best from the best!" she laughed and consumed one lump herself. The mare actually nodded at the words of her lady; that short up and down movement of her head could not be mistaken. Verién laughed at the stupefied expression of the three and put in her mouth another sweet. That was specifically not to the mare's liking and she recapitulated this by an ungentle shove in the girl's arm and an annoyed neigh, demanding more caresses and more sugar.
"Are these two communicating with each other in some psychic way?" Legolas asked Elrohir, deadly serious. The twin turned his brown eyes to him.
"I'm afraid you will have to ask the horse to know. Roachie is much more talkative when it comes to secrets than her lady." He answered him soberly. Legolas nodded slowly in thoughtful understanding.
"And why actually you call Verién sister?" he dared to ask. "She is your…"
"…cousin, yes," Elrohir admitted. "But she has no one else and we have only one her. So we treat her as a sister and she is one."
"I too have no one else and you have only one me." Legolas said suddenly, having no control of this thought, which slipped away unchecked before he thought better.
"Exactly," Elladan nodded. "And so there will be a day, I feel it, when we shall call you brother and you shall see us yours."
/*/
Learning to ride on a horse was one of the most pleasant happenings in Legolas' life. Roachie was being led by Elladan, who held the reins and walked slowly in circles around the huge paddock. Legolas tried to get familiar with the horse and manage to stay upright, which wasn't easy at the beginning. Yet Roach was smaller and calmer than most of the horses and soon their walks transferred into self-dependant rides, when it was Legolas who held the reigns and tried to control the horse.
"Now, if you feel you cannot control her, just focus on staying in the saddle, alright? When I whistle, she will obey me and return here. You are going alone, lad," Verién said when he was certain enough to try a quicker pace. Legolas nodded and urged Roachie to an undemanding run. It went smoothly. He and the animal developed some kind of tolerance, yet Roachie knew she was leading, for Legolas was simply too afraid still. Feeling no power over her, the mare decided to go into a frisky gallop. Seemingly she had been confined in the stall for far too long.
Legolas tried to subjugate the ever quickening horse, but to his fright succeeded not. He only managed to clutch her muscled neck with both his arms to stay atop her. Verién whistled long and shrilly twice, before the mare returned in a saddened and frustrated trot to the point where her lady was jumping over the fence.
"Legolas, are you alive? Can you stand?" she asked with worry as he immediately slipped from the saddle and stumbled backwards.
"I'm fine," he said quickly, trying to stand on his shaking legs and feeling his knees going out under him. The twins came to his aid immediately.
"I think your mare needs some good running, Verién," Elrohir said. "Good riding until she's spent. She has been in the stall a bit too long."
"Oh yes, we shall take care of it, young lady," Verién hissed to her mare and the animal actually turned the big eyes away as if in shame. "You sure everything's alright, Legolas?"
"Yes, all is well," the Elf answered, regaining the ability to walk.
"So it was too soon for a gallop. But worry not, all with time. You stayed in the saddle, which is a deed in itself. And as for someone having too much energy," the girl jumped on the saddle and roughly urged the mare to a neck-breaking gallop. The horse seemed to wait for this, since the mare started almost from the spot, with no runaway whatsoever.
"Will I be able to ride like this one day?" Legolas asked, his eyes going wide at the sight of Roachie jumping over the higher fence and galloping down the paths leading to the river.
"Sure you will. Even without the saddle, as in the old days. On a bigger horse, more durable, faster and braver one. On a real Imladris' blood horse. Like that black stallion over there," Elrohir pointed. On the other side of the paddock the stable boys were leading the beautiful mount that awed Legolas in the very first days of his stay in Rivendell.
"But wouldn't it be just too much of luck?" the blonde asked very quietly.
/*/
Soon it showed that it was possible to go even further down the valley and after passing the lively market Legolas saw the huge, silvery river, spilled wide and caressing the shore with a fierce current. 'Bruinen', Elladan explained to the overawed Legolas. The twins thought he might be seeing something like this for the first time, for his eyes were wide as saucers as he took in the sight. He could not move a single limb for a good time, just listen to the beauty of the water's song and the murmur of the happy, sated trees near the bank. Elrohir gathered the courage to venture into that very delicate spot in Legolas' mind, still sealed with black stains of incoherence or terror, and dared a statement that he must have seen Bruinen before, for he was crossing it in order to get to Rivendell.
Legolas did not look at him, only sat on the cold stones, his knees brought to his chest, fists near his temples. With a deep frown he observed the river as if it held the answer and could give it to him should he continue to meditate. The twins sat on both his sides, never urging him up.
After some time he relaxed and sighed sadly.
"I can't remember," he said quietly. "I can't remember no matter how much I try. As you say, I had to see the river, for I had to travel through it; yet I have no recollection about that event."
"You have more of such gaps in your memory?" Elladan asked after a while.
"Yes," Legolas answered, "actually… there is more I cannot remember that what I actually do, I'm afraid." The Elf shrugged. "But maybe I don't want to know more. Why ruin it, when my own mind has built this defense?"
To this the twins could not find a suitable answer.
The trips did not end just on seeing the shores of Bruinen. The mountains that lay behind the palace and woody hills were beautiful, wild and unhindered gardens of all Yavanna's creations, cool and fantastic during the day, enticing and mysterious during night. The waterfalls were something Legolas really enjoyed to see. His friends took him on a long ride upstream and climbed the slippery boulders just above the waterfall. The sprinkling water and roar of the falling masses was indescribable. As dangerous as the trip was, it was so unforgettable; they returned completely drenched, tired and sore, but quietly happy.
The close neighborhood of the Last Homely House also offered much. At the market Legolas was instructed what to do with the money he was being given for his work monthly, for he had no idea that he had this money for himself and could spend it. They took him to the tailor and helped him choose some garments. Legolas eyed the packs wrapped in brown paper with a quiet, stunned disbelief; these were his and only his clothes. He didn't get them from his Master, he bought them. And that made a difference.
The gardens that were kept hidden from many prying eyes now were thoroughly explored, even the private ones of the Royal family, the ones that Celebrian herself was planning and caring for. There Legolas rested with his friends, experiencing a totally new level of peace within these beautiful gardens, as if soaked through with benevolent, healing magic.
Once Legolas and Verién were summoned to help in a cowshed, so using the opportunity, Verién showed him all the household animals. Legolas had been milking cows before and so had the girl; they had huge fun and drank lots of warm, greasy milk, the freshest it could be. Pigs welcomed them also, as they came to provide them with food and clean the surroundings, but goats weren't welcoming at all. They made that up with the white, fluffy rabbits and whole flocks of yellow chickens, small and beautiful and chirping so noisily they could not hear a word of their reciprocal joy.
Legolas came to like all the household surroundings and even felt safe there; unfortunately, one accident almost shattered the hard won feeling. One day when he was just walking with his friends a big, hairy dog ran to them, waving his tail in a greeting, eager to feel caressing hands of his Elven friends on him. The twins knew that dog well and were very fond of him; potions of their Ada helped to save his life when he was just a puppy abandoned near the river bank and half-drowned. In the old dog custom, Whisker came straight to Legolas to sniff him around, paying no heed to his tense and rigid form. Curious and fond of what he sniffed, the dog jumped on the Elf with both his front paws, obviously inviting him to play. Legolas wailed in fear and did the only thing that came to his mind: he started running away. Naturally Whisker followed, barking loudly, according to the unwritten law of all dogs: when it runs, hunt it.
The twins and Verién were in motion in seconds, but none of them could overrun a panicked Elf. Legolas got to the first tree he encountered and terrified to his core climbed it as high as he could in rapidness and agility the three friends have never seen. Whisker kept waving his tail and barking, circling around the trunk, excited and fond of this new play.
"Legolas, what's wrong? It's just Whisker, just a dog!" Elrohir called. The Elf did not respond, only shook his head in denial.
"Come down, he won't do anything. You don't have to be afraid!"
"NO!" Legolas shouted from above, hiding his face in hands. "No, no, no… won't come down…"
"But why did you run? Never run away from a dog! It's obvious he will follow! It's just an instinct!" Verién called to the woodland creature crumbled in the tree crown. "Calm down and come down from there, be at peace."
"No," Legolas hiccupped. "No, I won't come down! There is no way you can force me!" he yelled back. This was as unexpected as unnatural, for Legolas had always been submissive. Now Elladan, Elrohir and Verién did not know whether to be glad of this sudden flash of spirit or irritated at the timing of it.
"Legolas, he won't do anything! He only wants to play!" Elladan called.
"No!" was Legolas' stubborn mantra. Soon they discovered that the Elf is simply crying, hugging to the stern trunk and wrapping his limbs around it. It was a shock to the twins. While Verién was prepared and could suspect such a behavior may occur at some point, Elladan and Elrohir were completely dumbfounded. Finally Elrohir climbed up on the tree and tried to coax Legolas down personally.
"Please, Legolas, they are holding the dog. I am here. Let me take you down," he soothed.
"…huge, red eyes, sharp teeth… running after him… biting… blood on the snow," Legolas was muttering between the sobs as if he was talking to an invisible somebody. Elrohir could make no sense of it, though. Finally he just wrapped his arm around the Elf's waist and pulled him onto his branch. Overcoming the immediate flash of panic by soothing words and a fierce hug, Elrohir slowly, persuasively made his way down the tree, escorting the crying woodelf. As Whisker came closer to him again, Legolas mewled pitifully and tried to get back up on the branches, but restricted with Elrohir's form, he just clung close to the twin, squealing in fright.
"Here, Legolas, these are not the dogs from Mirkwood," Verién once again surprised everyone with her knowledge of the Valar-forsaken realm. "Whisker just needs to learn your scent. He won't bite, he will just sniff you," she said, holding the dog fiercely, but allowing him to catch Legolas' scent. "Now you may safely turn. He satisfied his curiosity and will take no more interest of you, save when you initiate it. Look at him, he's not vicious at all," she said calmly, touching Legolas' arm. Elladan knelt strategically in front of Legolas, putting himself between the Elf and the animal, showing that he trusted the dog and could let his guard down. Elrohir held Legolas fast and prevented a dash on the tree again.
"Look, he is calm and curious," Verién soothed, stroking the thick beige fur of Whisker's. "When you meet a dog you do not know, first let him smell you. Do not look him in the eyes, for this is taken as a challenge, and don't stroke his head, for he would read it as if you want to dominate him. Just let him get familiar with you, then you may slowly touch him. Do you want to stroke him?"
Legolas shook his head so violently that he sent his blond tresses flying. Elrohir shushed him friendly and joined the speech.
"He won't bite you, really he won't. Just look," he said and patted the dog's nape. Whisker squirmed in joy and waved his tail at this new attention. "See? He won't suddenly attack you, he has been raised here and is accustomed to Elves. None of them hit him or hurt him. He has been fed well and regularly. He gets lots of affection and time for play. He has no reason to be evil-natured. Now, don't be scared; touch him. Come on," the Elf coaxed, and reassuring murmurs of his friends added to encouraging.
"Try, it's not dangerous. Look, I'm kneeling in front of him, I cannot possibly stand up quick enough to prevent being bitten should he attack me. But I let my guard down, because I'm certain he won't do it," Elladan said convincingly. "Extend your hand and just stroke his back."
The dog seemed to know that Legolas was afraid of him, for he was sitting patiently and waving his tail, which swept the ground under it repeatedly, leaving a half circle trail. He was panting while breathing, for the whole day of watching the household in a warm weather must have been tiresome. The long, pink tongue was lying steadily on top of the strong teeth of the lower jaw. Legolas was focused on these parted jaws. Knowing what dares, he slowly extended his hand.
The dog first raised his big, black and wet nose to nudge the soft palm and smell it again, but made no protest nor move to get away, so Legolas shyly touched the animal's nape.
"Good," Elrohir whispered. "See? He likes you," the twin smiled, pointing the never stopping movement of the tail. "Don't be scared, pat him. It's alright."
Shyly moving his hand up and down the fur, Legolas slowly relaxed. Whisker was simply allowing Legolas to stroke him, paying more attention to Elladan, who found a long stick on the ground and teased the dog with it to finally throw it far away. Whisker darted off in the direction of the throw immediately, barking happily and abandoning the group of friends.
"You're still shaking," Verién whispered, reaching for the blonde, who thankfully stepped into her embrace. "You need to calm down before we come back to the palace. Shush now, we shall go to the kitchens, what say you? Belithravien promised to make the muffins today."
Legolas nodded, more comfortable with this well known destination. The twins just followed, exchanging meaningful looks.
The kitchens were actually a very important place in Legolas' mind. In the evenings he and his friends were sometimes helping Belithravien in baking fresh bread for the next day. Legolas liked this activity so much that he often offered to help even if not required. He loved Belithravien's warm and slow rambling and the smell of bread, the safe dimness ruling over the nightly kitchen. It all reminded him of his many 'mothers'. In a way, he just considered Belithravien the next one. As he was quietly sitting on the table, swinging his legs in the air, the woman liked to come close and press him to her breast in a protective hug. Legolas would allow her and even sigh contently, but only after some time he began to respond. But he did, which was progress and a good improvement.
And not the only one. The twins took care of his physical education, Verién was always there to assist and explain, Master was revealing the art of writing to the stunned Elf. These lessons he loved the most, even if it required lots of focus from him. He felt protected when in his Master's presence. He liked to be near him. He trusted him, and after each meeting, full of learning and theory of course, but also including a normal talk of all the events of the day, Legolas could feel this trust and love extend. Elrond wanted to know everything: what he was doing, where he had been, what he learned, how he felt, what else he would want to see or hear explained. Legolas kept talking and all the more often he found himself trustingly sitting on his Lord's lap after the lesson and sharing all that he experienced. He came to love these evenings.
The ones spent with Arwen were also wonderful, but different in their nature. The maiden used to lead him to the Hall of Fire to listen to the Elven voices, poetry and songs, so that he could hear the legends and tales of his people. A few times he was asked to sing also. He recalled the sad songs he was taught in his childhood and lead a sorrowful tune, when the mists were gathering between the high trees of the Imladris' mountains.
Arwen was also taking him on a long and slow walks in the gardens, when she was speaking softly of the time before time, when the Valar were building a home for the Children of Ilúvatar. She told him of the great miracles they have done, of the most beautiful canopy of stars, made by Elbereth and seen by the Firstborn. She described the majesty of the Two Trees and other creations of Yavanna. She praised Ulmo's waters and the sweet air, rule of Manwë.
Legolas was listening and his beliefs were slowly changing; he could never accuse Arwen of lying, and he knew well she was speaking the truth. Yet his own mind contradicted with the acceptance of the merciful fathers and so he was in turmoil. Even Elrond said he cannot help him in this matter, for one's beliefs are a very personal matter which should not be interfered. For some time Legolas was in anguish.
But anguish or not, he knew there must be some kind of fate over his life. He did not trust it; he rather feared it. But it was a fear full of respect. He had suffered a lot, but now he was also given a lot. Still, respect for his fate was the only thing he could bring himself to feel now. And it was enough for that moment, as the smiling Elrond whispered into his ear.
Summer was passing. Warm, even hot days still came, but Legolas could feel that laer was coming to an end. As he first came to Imladris in the very beginning of laer(1), he spent full three months here under the protective, warm skies of Rivendell. Now, as iavas began for good, thunderstorms came more and more often. Verién decided she could no longer reside on the unprepared loft she had occupied for the summer, as Legolas was lodged in her room. He kept pleading for her to return and throw him out instead, in his guilt he even talked to Erestor and his Master about that. Verién however stubbornly refused to come back to her chamber and sleep in one room with the portrait of her mother. She sacrificed herself to general cleaning and repairs of her loft, which proved to be both hard work and good fun for the whole four of friends.
It was a round loft on top of the tower with a square hole in the floor with the ladder attached to it to act like the stairs. Pigeons made their homes on the rafters under the irregular ceiling, and the orange light was seeping from a huge arch window, reaching from the floor to the highest parts of the wall. It wasn't closing entirely and lacked glass in a few places. An old, crushed bed stood near the wall. There was a crooked table and two chairs, but not even a wardrobe. The mess in the room was horrible.
"And… what did you say? It needs a little cleaning?" Elladan stammered out finally, breaking the dead silence which appeared after ushering them to the room.
"Alright, maybe more than a little. But it's a beautiful room, can't you see?" Verién stood in the middle and turned around, tilting her head back.
"I can see an old loft," Elrohir said, coming closer to the window. "But the sight is… wonderful," his eyes widened as he opened the window. They were high above Imladris' roofs, and even above the tops of the trees. The whole valley could be seen, as well as the endless, golden sky, decorated with a beautiful sunset.
"No one has such a view from their window." Legolas whispered. The four of them sat on the floor and stared at the sunset for a long while; Elladan and Elrohir sat with their backs touching, in identical positions, and Verién laid on the floor, supporting her chin on her hands.
"Guys," she said, "this room or no room."
"Verién, please… why can't you just sleep in the room already prepared? There are so many…" Elrohir started.
"Your 'so many rooms' become 'no rooms', when a delegation arrives to uncle or something else happens. Those rooms are needed. And here no one is sleeping and no one needs this loft. It was abandoned for so long... I want to take care of this room," she sighed.
"I will help you with tidying," Legolas said. "Also, the window lock needs to be repaired, and you will need a door… I can make you a trap door in the floor."
"You see?" Verién smiled. "He will help me. He is a good friend, not like you."
"And who is saying that?" the twins exclaimed in unison, feigning outrage so well that Legolas laughed heartedly. His voice rang out clear and carefree, bringing a memory of a silvery current of a mountain stream; so that was how he sounded when laughing, his friends concluded with just a small hint of sadness.
And the work started. Verién tidied the whole room by herself; all broken furniture, not needed pieces of fittings, old or broken tools, boards and planks, pieces of metal, smaller window panes, baskets, buckets and boxes were placed near the walls, all the dust wiped off, the floor swept, all the garbage taken out, the window cleaned as well as the rafters covered with a huge amount of dirt and the marks of birds' stay.
Legolas helped her in mending the bed; Neremiel put on it some pillows and a quilt. Verién assessed it critically and smiled. When she went downstairs later to bring something to drink for them, she also brought an armful of heavy fabric, painted in tiny flowers. The fabric placed upon the bed on a nailed plank made a beautiful canopy.
Through several days the four friends and Neremiel were spending their afternoons on the loft. Elrohir found some paints, so they all happily attempted to paint the walls in whatever they wanted. Neremiel painted a swan with white wings spread on the sides above its head. Legolas reached with a brush to a jar with the blue dye and painted a river ended with a waterfall and the high trees around it. Verién painted huge, red flowers on a long stem. Elladan painted Elrohir, and Elrohir painted Elladan.
These last sparks of summer spent on repairing and mending restored some of Legolas' confidence. At least he found that he exceeded his friends in something; and it was simple household keeping. The twins both said they should be better prepared to normal life, without a burden of being their Father's sons; it came with a sting of shame that they knew much less than they should about the things of common people. How were they supposed to resolve matters and help as rulers, when they had little knowledge of life? In an unwritten pact of honesty of thoughts they brought that matter up in a conversation with Legolas and later with their Father; Legolas felt a huge wave of sympathy towards the twins, who seemed to understand something no Mirkwood royal would ever consider. Elrond felt pride.
That was the way in which the summer gently, sensually switched into fall.
/*/
A thunderstorm raged high on the night sky as a poorly clothed figure stood in front of Lord Elrond's study, waiting to be let in, shivering in the darkness with no candlelight on the corridor. The large door soon opened and the storm chose exactly that moment to roar again with the ear-splitting thunder and a white light of enormous intensity. The creature jumped in barely restrained fear and practically fled into the waiting, strong arms of his Master.
"Are you afraid of the storm, little leaf?" Elrond chuckled, closing the door and covering Legolas' back with the long, burgundy sleeves of his night robe when embracing him.
"N-no… of the lightning," Legolas mumbled, keeping his eyes shut. "It strikes suddenly and sets the trees on fire."
"Well, this cannot be helped. Sometimes disasters happen and it is only natural. When the river floods, no human nor Elf can steer it back into its bed until it slowly returns by itself. What remains for us is to deal with the remnants," Elrond gently towed his charge towards the fireplace. "I suspect we will have some work too. The wind will break many trees and probably the roads will need unblocking."
"We… we are not safe here?" Legolas asked in a strained whisper.
"Oh but we are," Elrond smiled. "Imladris is well protected. Trust me, there is nothing to fear." Elrond kissed the crown of golden locks of the Elf and sat in the armchair, patting his lap. Legolas eagerly nestled himself there, putting both his legs over the armrest and encircling Elrond's neck with his arms like a child would.
"This is the first time I have observed a change of seasons," Legolas confessed, puffing in the crook of Elrond's neck. "In Mirkwood all we had was growing cold and the non-existence of many species of birds. Suddenly the grasshoppers would stop chirping and the rare greenery on the pavement must have been swept away, too dry and dead to grow any more… After that it was only colder," he muttered, emphasizing the last word by cuddling closer to his lord in the rhythm of his speech, "…colder and colder and colder."
Elrond smiled at the pushy hugging and reached for the blanket lying on another armchair nearby.
"I know, little leaf. I know. Rest now." He sighed, covering them both with a fluffy cotton fabric. "Do you want me to read you a little?"
"What if I fall asleep, Master?" Legolas asked innocently, trying to suppress a yawn and jerking again at the sound of another thunder.
"Well, I suppose that's the purpose. You came because you were afraid of the storm and you knew you would get no sleep being left alone. Now I shall try to trick you into dreaming." Elrond smirked. "And concern yourself not about how you will get into bed."
"Please wake me up then, Master," Legolas muttered. "I will go myself."
"We shall see. Now, recline and listen." Elrond commanded and went back a few pages of the book he was currently reading. It didn't matter to Legolas what kind of book it was, whether it was a record of last year's wheat harvest or a philosophical tractate. As long as it was his Master's steady voice lulling him, it made no difference, for he felt safe.
In less than half an hour he was sound asleep, with no regard for the raging thunderstorm. Elrond fondly caressed the ivory temple and kissed the smooth brow. So perfect a beauty he was holding. In this short time with his friends Legolas' looks improved to the point that many heads turned in his direction as he walked. His hair grew longer and developed a unique, pale golden glow. His eyes were now devoid of the dull depth they had when Elrond first looked deep in them, and a merry flicker appeared, heralding a more swift healing progress. Indeed he gained some weight making good on his promise and now his body was no longer flatly deformed, but full and proportional, although still very slender. Due to proper diet and regular exercises in rich variety Legolas' shapely form caught many an eye.
Each time someone spoken of this young, appetizing Mirkwood boy Elrond felt a burning flame of very typical jealousy and possessiveness so characteristic to his every infatuation. He kept his feelings in rein, never allowing them to be known to Legolas or anyone else except Glorfindel.
And now here he was, holding his chosen Elf in a very father-like embrace, trying to fight himself not to ravish those soft lips, parted as Legolas slept, pale as his carnation, soft like flower petals. It would be betraying his trust and so Elrond desperately silenced his inner call. He could not withhold himself from kissing the top of his head again, however. I should put him into bed, Elrond thought, surveying the warm bundle on his lap. On the other hand…
"I am in no hurry," he whispered and kissed him once more.
A soft knock in the door forced Elrond back into the restrained behavior. His sons entered the chamber, shushing themselves at the sight of the sleeping Legolas. Both came closer and leaned to take a better look at his trusting face, his eyelids closed with sleep. (2) Elladan shared a smile with his Adar, reaching to delicately smooth the pale blond mane.
"We have come to say goodnight Ada, on our way we wanted to take Legolas upstairs," he said very quietly. "We were watching the storm from Verién's window. It is amazing," he breathed.
Elrohir seated himself cross-legged on the floor in front of Elrond's armchair and watched the two for a long time. Soon his brother joined him and they exchanged looks and a skyward twitch of eyebrows. Elrond was smiling slightly, observing his charge's features with a serene and calm expression they saw so rarely. And yet there was undoubtedly a dose of dark guilt and longing, very much like that first day of their return from Lórien.
"Ada…" Elrohir started hesitantly. "Do you plan to foster Legolas?" he asked. Elrond sighed, without looking at him.
"Maybe…" he said very slowly. "I don't yet know."
"He would make a good brother," Elladan whispered. "A younger brother. The one you teach things and take care of…"
"…the one you show best places and steal cookies from the kitchens with," Elrohir ended with a tolerant smile for his brother. "Yes, he would do a good companion. He has no one else in this world, right?"
Elrond was silent. Suddenly the guilt washing over him enforced its hold.
"No one," he said. Even for him it sounded like a terrifying verdict.
"Ada?" Elladan tried in turn. Elrond raised his eyes to him. "Why do you allow him to call you 'Master'?" the twin asked. The Lord sighed sadly.
"I didn't want to confuse him… he had barely accepted the idea of his freedom. I think that deep in his heart he still considers himself my property, even if his approach to me has changed. I am his Master, but the one who cares for his belongings," Elrond refused to look his sons in the eye. "I probably made a mistake by not ingraining the right thought in his head better, I should have made him believe he is free and I am no Master. Now it will be a difficult habit to fight."
"You did what you could," Elrohir ascertained his Father calmly. "If you feel you couldn't have explained it better, then you probably couldn't. We had a sample when we tried to tell him what he is given money for and what to do with it."
Elrond smiled, trying to imagine the scene. "I see," he muttered under his breath. "My little, stubborn, submissive elfling. You are so difficult to domesticate at times," he whispered the endearment into the tipped ear. If the twins were shocked at the way of addressing his friend, they didn't let it be known.
"Ada, but it must be helped… I mean the whole situation. It's just… I mean, one just wants to grab and hold him through it, right? It's so wrong, what has been done to him. To send one who can understand the speech of trees to cut them down… or to keep especially trained and maddened dogs to bite disobedient slaves to death… what in the name of the Valar is happening in Mirkwood, Ada?" Elrohir asked.
"How do you know these things? Has he told you about his past?" Elrond asked abruptly with a mixture of shock and fury written all over his face.
"We had spent a lot of time together. Situations issue, when he behaves… specifically," Elladan joined in. "But he has never told us the whole story. I think it is still too fresh a memory."
Elrond sighed. His lips were pursed into an angry, thin line, and he clenched his hands around the unresisting body in a protective hug. Grim determination overruled his thoughts as he schemed what could be done; firstly, he needed information.
"I would be glad if you coaxed him into talking," Elrond said quietly. "As much for his sake as for the other slaves'. The Golden Wood and Imladris have been tolerating Lathronios' misdeeds for far too long." Elrond swallowed thickly.
"Will do, Ada," the twins whispered.
"As for my little leaf," Elrond's brow straightened. "These memories… their mere existence is poisoning him from the inside even now, when he is surrounded by friendship and care. I heard him cry out just two nights ago. What he needs is to test your trust and confide the whole story, as terrible as it may be. Children, you must not fail him."
The twins just nodded; they knew it true, but the difficulty of this task was high. Legolas was still prone, his mental state fragile. And to push him too early would be disastrous.
"But now…" Elrond delicately gathered his precious cargo in his arms and rose from the armchair. Legolas whimpered silently, on the verge of waking, pouting his lips and subconsciously burrowing deeper in his Master's warmth. "Bed time, I think. You should catch some sleep also, my starlings. It's after midnight." He said and as his sons also rose, he leaned and kissed each one in the forehead. "Goodnight, my sons."
And he slowly walked out with a blankety bundle of trusting sleep in his arms to store it in a safe and soft bed to rest until morning.
/*/
The storm was an unstoppable force. Lightning after lightning the sky was set in a dramatic illumination. Verién kept watching the breathtaking spectacle and waiting for her family's return. A few candles placed on the rough floor in a small puddles of melted wax were slowly going out, so she replaced them with new ones and returned to her spot. Pigeons were cooing softly on the rafters, sharing their warmth.
Elladan and Elrohir were the first to come. They sat near the girl in a grim silence, trying to understand something from the mess of pictures kindling in their minds.
Another roar ripped the sky to pieces.
Almost soundlessly, brushing the floor with her long nightgown Arwen appeared in the trap opening in the floor and joined the three in front of the huge window. She sat close by and encircled her knees with her arms. Without the royal air around her and with her hair done in a simple braid she seemed suddenly more approachable and the uncharacteristic burden of worry made her features more human.
She cleared her throat quietly.
"Ada was carrying Legolas to bed," she remarked.
No one answered her; in the flash of another lightning they could see the far away trees bend with the force of the wind. They all feared what damage Bruinen would do this night, for the river was just as mad as the sky.
"Ada is doing nothing with the weather," Elladan said after a while, referring to the force of Vilya he was keeping. "Why is that?" he asked.
No answers came forth. Terrified pigeons were making the only sounds in the room.
"He calls him… 'mine'," Elrohir muttered. " 'My little leaf' it was."
The three siblings slowly turned their eyes on Verién. She was sitting with her head down, observing the changes of light on the wooden, old and blemished floor.
"I have nothing funny to say." She sighed. "This is quite clear to me."
"Clear?" Elrohir snorted. "Well, this actually is funny. For all we can see is a blur."
(1) laer – Sindarin name of summer. iavas – Sindarin for fall.
(2) I absolutely cannot cope with Tolkien's idea of Elves sleeping with opened eyes. I know I am skipping a major healing theme I could use and I'm going against the canon, but… (*Shielding with a big AU sign*)