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.
DISCLAIMER II: I used a fragment of lyrics to "King and Country", track 5 from the album "Freedom Fields" by Seth Lakeman. This guy is amazing.
WARNINGS: none, really. Troubling thoughts.
Feedback would cheer me up a lot…
Chapter 13: LEGOLAS' STORY – PART ONE: THE WET WOOD'S CONSOLATION
/*/
" 'Tis I my love who'll leave in June
For twenty four days, no more
Now mark that spot from whence I came
'Tis for King and Country I'll come back again."
The last trembling note of the violin died in silence as the Elves were sitting on the familiar stairs, exhausted beyond imagination after the full day of labor to make the roads crossable. All the trees knocked down by the windstorm must have been secured and taken away from the paths to be selected into further use later; some made a good material for building, and some were suitable only for heating the chambers in many fireplaces. In that case the wood must have been chopped and transported to the palace, and from there into various other destinations.
Verién put the violin down. It was a long day. Even Glorfindel was helping in the woods to secure the passages and help rebuilding the guards' posts, changing horses often while traveling from one camp to the other, in the meantime reporting the damage to Elrond.
The twins were positively filthy and their mood was dampened. Unwilling to let thoughts overwhelm them, they committed themselves to work, and found totally unexpected help from Legolas' side. The Elf knew much about such hard labors, much more than they did, and he was of a great help even to the skilled carpenters and road-builders. Elladan and Elrohir just couldn't blame him for anything, when he was wading knee deep in the mud and helping to lift the oak logs from the sideways, then willingly grabbing a small axe and clearing the trunk from all side branches, preparing it to transport. The Elves had to only attach such a log to the horse sled and could move back to the valley.
Hardworking and unselfish blond Elf could not even know that he has evoked an unhealthy fascination in Lord Elrond. He did not even acknowledge the concept. Firstly in jokes, later a bit more seriously the twins dragged him into the talk about their Father to investigate whether the attraction is returned or not and if Legolas is even aware of it.
He was not. In sincere, overawed words he spoke of his Master who had saved his life, then helped him regain his health and had given him protection.
"He had never hit me," Legolas was talking with a slight blush of pure admiration. "He had been so good, given me a real bed to sleep in, allowed to eat three meals a day. I had to tell him about Mirkwood… and he did not turn away from me even then. He is compassionate, he is caring, he is considerate. He teaches me, for he doesn't want me to remain stupid. I cannot understand what I am being paid for though, but it doesn't matter; I will serve him to the end of my days, I will do anything, literally anything he orders," the Elf proudly ended and excused himself, for his help was needed on the other side of the road. The twins were at loss of words.
Even if Legolas loved Elrond, it was clearly the slave-master or even child-protector relation. With full disregard of his own person Legolas admired his Lord with endless affection and all he wanted to do was to please. He simply did not understand the nature of lust or the mechanism of sexual attraction. That arose new questions: has Legolas had sex before? Did he know how his body may react to the simple touch? Did he know what reaction could he provoke?
With his blind obedience and unlimited trust Legolas would probably agree wholeheartedly to any play Elrond could suggest, not only seeing nothing wrong in it, but also sacrificing his own normal reactions to any of his possible future lovers. Both twins doubted their Father would simply use Legolas as a pleasure slave, deceive him and talk into the assumption that what they are doing has nothing to do with any kind of abuse or even is in a good tone, as a preferred way of repaying for his Master's kindness. They strongly rejected this idea, they knew their Ada and he had a pure heart.
But then, if this was not just a carnal desire, was that love? If so, what about their Nanneth waiting for her husband in Valinor? How could Elrond just forget about her? If the feeling towards their friend is genuine, Elrond would want it returned. What then? Seduce the blond child, make him love his Master, then break his heart and sail oversea? Or take the boy with him and choose one of the two? Which one? This wasn't agreeing with the twins at all.
There was also the last matter, the thought that have pestered them from a long time now.
Elrond was so lonely. In his bitter, cold watch throughout the ages he had no one to entrust his heart to. He was all alone with thoughts, regrets and needs of his soul and body since he was left alone by Celebrian. They were not the most passionate couple, for apart of respect, friendship, tradition and political reasons they shared little physical attraction. But they were fond of each other in a precious way, so that they were not alone and created a loving, good family with their three children. In a way, they accepted the lack of passion and focused on many other solid things that constituted their marriage. But after the tragic incident befalling their mother, Celebrian grew detached not only to her husband, but even to her children.
What right did the twins have to take away that happy spark in their Father's eyes present when he looked at the blond Elf? Elrond was an adult. He knew what he was doing. Was doubting in him the reaction he would expect from his own sons?
And they would gladly see more of the calm smile he was wearing lately.
The riddle with Legolas' past remained unresolved and it was only adding to the twins' frustration. Somehow they felt these two things are connected; Legolas' past and Elrond's feelings. Without revealing one there was no possible progress in the other.
Elladan sighed and once again assessed the bootleg of his muddied shoe.
"Sing some more," he asked and Verién reached for the violin again.
"Folding hills and a silver lane
A weeping maid, an evening in the rain
Roses ramble and the trees hand low
We sit and drink to all good friends we know.
'Tis I my love who'll leave in June
For twenty four weeks no more
Now mark that spot from whence I came
'Tis for King and Country I'll come back again.
The first season passed without news
Two weeks gone and still no Autumn tune
The leaves they weep for the loss of their spring
The dimming days they serve no better king.
'Tis I my love who fought for you
For twenty four months no more
Now mark that spot from whence I came,
'Tis for King and Country I'll come back again.
I'll come back to you, when I'm rich and brave
I'll come back to you…"
The music composed itself greatly with the chilly, wet evening. Everyone were so tired that when Arwen came to collect them, softly saying that Adar is becoming agitated with their absence, they did not say a word and agreed to be led inside the safe confinement of the walls.
FADING OF THE YEAR
(Firith)
Probably the last sunny days were coming to an end and the four friends were forced to stay inside more. No one welcomed that, but as the turning of the year would not suffer any argument, they simply surrendered to the inevitable and started wearing warmer clothes. For the very last goodbye of the warm, colorful Fall they decided to go on a short trip in the mountains. Soldiers posts stationed there provided a good shelter on the many bigger talans, few of which had special roofs and even walls added. The furthest border of Imladris was well-guarded, and also well-equipped.
The moods came back to normal after the slight shock that Elrond's behavior issued, but as absolutely nothing was progressing, and the Lord of Imladris was not dwelling in despair, otherwise – he had become more pleased with life and was smiling more often, the twins and their sister stopped discussing and pursuing the matter long into the night and allowed the feelings to either evaporate or grow on their own, unchecked way. They trusted their Ada, after all.
And there was absolutely no blame they could put on the fair creature, who seemed to them all more like a younger brother than a previous slave brought from Mirkwood and barely saved from the Mandos' grasp. Legolas was a vital point in their life and they wished him stay so. The twins let the next orc hunt go; they decided to wait the Fading, Winter and Stirring (1) in Imladris rather than spend another half of the year away from home, and strangely, Verién also did not mention anything about departing. They all assumed she wants to wait through the worst just like the twins and the idea gladdened them secretly.
Now, they had little time. To say their goodbyes to the summer warmth they had to set off early tomorrow morning.
/*/
"My legs hurt," Verién said, stretching herself. Roachie neighed behind her in a funny manner, just as if she was laughing at her; Verién immediately stopped yawning and turned her questioning eyes to he horse, who passed her by quickly, probably realizing the girl may jump on her back in any time. The mare was already carrying the bedrolls and small packages with food and clothes, so she had enough of burdens.
"We are not walking that long. Stop whining," Elladan turned and reached a helpful hand to his cousin when they were climbing on a steep stone shelf.
"I did not sleep well, that's the cause," Verién complained drowsily. "And I'm saying this because I like whining. It helps, especially in the mornings. I feel better already," she smiled and Legolas had to admit she was little right. Just a small dose of self-pity was really helping to get out of the warm bed.
"I can carry you," Elladan said, stopping on the way. "Jump on my back."
"Seriously?" Verién's eyes widened.
"Seriously. I am a warrior, not a clumsy girl. Come on." Elladan leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, and she jumped on his back. "Hold on, little sister," Elladan said clenching hands on her thighs and holding her in place. "Better?" he asked.
"Much better," she said and kissed him in the cheek. "I love you, dear brother."
"Of course you love me," he laughed. "Especially when I'm carrying you on my back."
"Were you thinking about what places are we going to show Legolas? There are a few worth seen, especially since he hasn't been deep in the mountains at all. What are we going to show him?" she asked and Elrohir suddenly laughed.
"Maybe that beautiful clearing near the stream, do you still remember it, Verién? When we were small elflings we were playing there under care of Glorfindel. One day you got lost. We were frightened and looked for you everywhere," he laughed.
"While I fell sound asleep in an old tree trunk, I remember. Mum was mad at me," she said with a smile. "Yes… and it's close to the guard posts also, so we're good in case of rain."
"I really hope there will be no rain," Elladan muttered. "We should have made this trip much sooner. Now it's a bit too chilly as for my liking."
"Then turn back," his brother smirked.
"In case of cold I shall just steal your blanket."
"And find yourself face down in the mud, thrown down from the talan."
They walked long. When Elladan was already tired of carrying his sister, but was not willing to admit it, Elrohir found a secret passage under the huge roots of a tree and they stepped into the fascinating clearing. It was perfectly round, mainly in beige and brown hues of dry grass, surrounded by high trees in intense colors of brown and black, partially deprived of the foliage of leaves. A small stream was flowing down the stone shelves and cutting through the clearing in a nice semicircle, creating a shape of a sickle. Forever green ivy curtains were falling down from the old branches and spiraling down the tree trunks.
Above their heads the sky was a round stain of grey on a dark green backcloth of spruces and fir wood. It was like being inside of a huge cauldron.
"It is beautiful here," Legolas sighed.
"Yeah... We liked to come here. It is far away from the Last Homely House, but Elladan and Elrohir were running in the woods often. Mum would sometimes let me ride with Arwen here, under Glorfindel's care. And it always ended like this: Glorfindel was sitting with Arwen and the rangers near the fire, Arwen bored as hell, while Elladan, Elrohir and me were playing here." Verién explained.
"But when you got lost your mum forbade you riding in the mountains." Elrohir said, taking Roachie's reins and directing her to the left, where a small opening in the solid wall of the trees was hidden.
"Well… yeah, she had that nice little habit of forbidding." Verién snorted.
"That's true, my poor little sister," Elladan embraced Verién by one arm. "You were sitting with books all day long and doing nothing. It's a miracle that you did not put on weight because of lack of running," he laughed and earned an elbow in the ribs.
/*/
They arrived to their destination in no time. Legolas was thrilled to see a small complex of talans high in the evergreen foliage, connected with thick lines, rope ladders and various tiny bridges. Some Elves in typical, greenish outfits were moving around. The group had been spotted much earlier, but only now they were briefly greeted and directed to the highest talan deep inside the tiny urban structure. Roachie joined the horses of the guards, nibbling lazily on the grass and seeking shelter among the trees.
The day quickly waned, being replaced with the grey twilight. The road on foot took them a whole day and naturally the four friends were feeling tired, but in the good way, indicating solid effort or well done work. The inside of their talan was totally unfurnished and fire-deprived, but still warm, lit by few oil lamps seated securely on the floor in a hand reach. The twins, Legolas and Verién put their bedrolls in a small circle on the floor and stretched out. Warm, yellow light cast shadows on the wooden walls and created a nice atmosphere of safety. Legolas felt wonderful, listening to his friends' conversation and merry jokes, while the three was sipping on their mugs full of brownish, potent alcohol. It was warming them and lighting their moods. Under gentle persuasion Legolas tried to sip at the tipple also. He disliked it a lot, but the liquid was making him warmer, so he forced himself to drink half of the cup. Suddenly he found he is hot and dizzy, and he wants to laugh and sing and listen to the music, and then just sleep for ages, imagining that the bedroll was his bed in the safe palace.
The twins whined that they cannot sing some drunkard songs to the accompaniment of the violin, what would be quite improper at the border, but Verién agreed to play something not too loudly instead. To make up for the loss of fun, they started telling jokes and the funniest stories of their life. Verién had her eyes teary from laughter, just like Legolas, who found the effect of the drink unbearably pleasant. He tried as he might not to succumb to the feeling to be able to watch his actions and tongue, but could not and found himself telling and doing things much more at ease.
"Now, Elrohir, your turn," Legolas asked, fighting the fit of giggles. "The most embarrassing story of your childhood."
"Oh, I have one… listen. 'El, it was when we were so small and in the middle of that silly I-just-hate-my-moron-brother argument…"
"Oh, that was a stupid time. We didn't like each other at all, like idiots," Elladan laughed and reached over his head to pat his brother on the forehead, as they were lying opposite each other flat on their backs.
"I remember a delegation of Dwarves came to the palace and we all were really excited. We couldn't focus on our lessons. You ran away from one just to walk around these Dwarves and talk to them, and I was so envious that it was not my idea, you get it." Elrohir tried to maintain a straight face. "And you got a piece of real sausage from one of them. Normally Elves do not eat sausage, and you got a real piece, so everyone came closer to see."
"And it had such a strong scent of chopped meat, that it lingered on my hands and clothes until evening," Elladan laughed.
"Exactly! Exactly, we were standing in a group of boys chuckling at this stink of the sausage and I said you will be stinking now too as you ate it, and everyone laughed, and you went whole red, and as I watched you it was so funny that I couldn't stop laughing… and, as you remember, I actually farted from the strain," Elrohir choked out between a fit of uncontrolled giggles, and the rest of the sentence was drowned in a thunder of laughter. "It was the most embarrassing moment of my life!" he sighed, wiping away the hot tears of joy. The four friends couldn't calm down for a long while, clasping hands on their shaken bellies aching pleasantly from that sound, merry fit. Legolas could swear he had never been laughing so hard in his whole life.
"Good one, he wins the turn!" Verién admitted finally, composing herself a little. "Remind me to give you that whiskey when we are at home."
"Hehe… Alright, I'll do it. Do we have something good to eat?" Elrohir said supporting himself on the elbows. "I grew hungry with all this tale-telling."
"No worries, you will never be hungry in my company," Verién said. "I've got some bread here, few apples, cheese, charqui, some snacks and a solid piece of Belithravien's cake… here you go. Let's scoff! And give me some," she said, stretching her hand for the cup.
After the dinner they all lay in their bedrolls again, staring at the ceiling and miraculously doing nothing.
"Hey, why had you not finished the cake?" Elladan asked, glancing at Legolas.
"I cannot… I'm full…" Legolas said, grimacing.
"Come on," the three said in unison.
"My stomach is smaller than yours!"
"We will have to systematically work on stretching him," Elrohir said. "Seriously, Legolas. You are still too thin."
"I'm telling you I have never been so fat," Legolas answered. "I have eaten too much… I feel so strange," he confessed with a blissful sigh indicating that he liked that 'strange' state he was in.
"You are just tipsy," Elrohir told him, patting his arm approvingly.
"I would say drunk. You have never drank whiskey before, huh?" Elladan asked.
"No, I have never drank something like this at all," Legolas sighed. "It tastes horrible… but it is… good."
Verién snorted at this, and Legolas laughed carefree also. He was so happy in that moment that he simply wanted to laugh all night long. He was sure he has found or developed new muscles on his face, for his cheeks ached already.
To calm himself a little, he gazed through a small opening in the ceiling, provided instead of a window. It was left open, but possible to close in the case of rain. He looked up, searching for the pieces of the starry sky between the branches.
"Too bad we cannot see the stars," he said extending a hand vertically and his friends followed his sight.
"Blessed be doings of Elentari," Verién sighed. "Oh, we weren't looking at the maps of the sky yet… when we return, I'm gonna teach you a few names of constellations."
"I know a few," Legolas muttered.
"How come?" Elrohir asked before he thought better. A very sad smile appeared on the Elf's face.
"Moreth showed me," he said.
A thick silence engulfed them suddenly and only a hum of wet spruces nearby could be heard.
"You miss him, right?" Elrohir whispered.
"Yes," sighed Legolas. "Very much. I haven't even thanked him for saving my life."
"You will," Verién said. "You have not seen him the last time."
Legolas shook his head and sniffed loudly.
"How? He stayed in there. Why the fate had decided it was me who would be granted with a grace to live in this bright place," Legolas sighed. "Moreth should be here instead of me, sleeping in my bed, eating all this wonderful things, walking around without chains. It is unfair," he whispered.
"Legolas, every Elf deserves these simple things Mirkwood denied you," Elladan said. All of you should be free. And Moreth should not be here instead of you, but with you. Free and independent. As every son of Mirkwood. Every one."
Somewhere above them a bird fled off the safe branch. The sound of wings and feathers flapping was unnaturally loud. The breath of night grew unfriendly.
"No," Legolas said.
Elladan, Elrohir and Verién turned to him in a stupefied bewilderment. His pale brow was furrowed and one could say that he is in some kind of distress – but whether it was hurt or irritation they could not say.
"W-what do you mean by 'no'?"
"Only this is not true. We do not deserve this." The Elf answered with whole calmness he possessed, clearly hinted with saddened self-loathing. Three of his friends glanced from him to each other and back, understanding nothing of it.
"Well… explain this to us," Verién said, having a strange feeling that they have just touched the topic which may be a key to grasp Legolas' misunderstanding of the surrounding world.
"What is there to explain? Elf slaves are not worthy ones. We do not deserve to live like normal people, we have to work and serve our betters. As such, we have no right to place ourselves in the community. We are… below. That's how the world is arranged."
"Oh but Legolas!" Elrohir all but sat up in a flash of stunned disbelief. "But this is a total absurd! How come…"
"It's not an absurd! It's justice!" Legolas sat up also and his confused face went red in shame or anger, probably both. Whiskey made his tongue loosen itself and some real emotions resurface.
"Legolas, there should not be any slaves at all! People do not divide on the royalty and slaves, it simply is… wrong!" Elrohir exclaimed.
"No no no, that's not true. You don't understand." Legolas gestured with both his hands, as if trying to stop Elrohir's words from getting to his ears. He took a deep breath and trying to calm himself settled for explaining.
"We are enslaved because we are worse than others," he started slowly to his friend's dismay. "Ones are better Elves, chosen for higher things, and they are royalty. Others are normal, and they work and live in Mirkwood as craftsmen or farmers. And we are the worst kind of people, we are slaves because we have not the right to live normally among others. We are simply tainted," Legolas said with a patient expression of a father showing to his son how does corn grow. Elrohir went mute and his mouth fell agape.
"But what are you saying!" Elladan joined in. "There is no such a division based on people's worthiness! It is true that there are richer and poorer classes, there is royalty and gentry and then farmers and so on. But it doesn't mean that a farmer is of a worse kind than a king! The fact that some people are ruling the country does not make them better. They do it because other people wanted them to rule! Ada rules this valley because other Elves want it!" He added. "Slavery should never take place, it is wrong! What Lathronios is doing is monstrous, unnatural and undignified. You are the same as me, Legolas, the same as my brother or Verién. You have the same value as my Father."
"No!" Legolas argued, dismayed. "I cannot be! What you say does not make sense! Why would we be slaves, if we were not worse?"
At first Legolas thought he had proved his point and his friends just do not know what to say. With a confident smile he took in their sad and sorry expressions and instantly he felt that something is amiss. Looking from one to the other he searched for the answer.
"Why?" he repeated.
Elladan wanted to say something, but abandoned the idea.
"What's wrong? Tell me, w-why are we slaves, if not… if we are not… Why?"
The air seemed to thicken. Legolas reached to the collar of his tunic, unbuttoning it, for he abruptly felt like suffocating when awaiting their answer.
"There should not be such a thing as slavery." Verién started, taking a deep breath. "It is wrong. It is evilness. And if something like this happens, it is because Lathronios is a mean, wicked animal, not a creature worthy to call it an Elf. I don't know why he wanted to have slaves in his country. Maybe he enjoys the suffering of others, if so, he is… sick. But you are not worse. He told you so to prevent your rebellion against him."
Legolas was silent a long moment, looking at the three with disbelief. He could not understand. Through so many years he was sure he is of a worse kind and he had no idea of self worth. And now he was told that it was not true, that he had a right to live like other Elves, that he is not worse, he is even equal to Lord Elrond! That was not what he was told and taught from the very beginning.
"Take a look around, Legolas. In Imladris there are no slaves. How do you think, why?" Elladan asked gently.
"Because only the worthy Elves are living here," Legolas said immediately. "And I was so surprised when you thought about me in the same way. I am unworthy," he explained.
"You are not!" Verién insisted. "And if so, what have you done in your life to be unworthy? What crime have you committed? No, wait; what have all of you done wrong to become slaves?"
Legolas dropped his eyes, trying to give an expected answer. He couldn't calm his thoughts.
"A slave is a slave when he is born one, from parents of such a status. Or when the child is a bastard. Or very poor… some Elves had sold their children into slavery, I know… Others were caught somewhere outside the borders. Of these I know not. But we all are just… tainted… this is because we lack something, something important… we are paying for the sins of our past. We all had to do something really terrible in our previous lives. And there are those… who were taken, used… slaves in the dungeons… the whores. They… we… have no right to live among others."
Elrohir was just about starting yelling in his helpless despair, but Elladan cut him off brutally and called to Legolas in pure shock.
"Hold on! 'WE!' "
Elrohir stopped struggling out of his brother's grasp and sat down heavily on the floor. Verién shook her head sadly, not looking at the twins.
" 'We'…? You have been…?"
"Yes, I am also dirty," Legolas said with an empty voice, bringing his knees to his chest and encircling his legs by hands. "I had been taken and so tainted by a human merchant."
Dead silence occurred. No one moved for a good while. No one knew what to do or what to say.
"I realize you don't want to talk to me now," Legolas said in a strange voice, "so I shall just take… a walk… alright? I don't want to be of any discomfort to…"
He was cut off by Verién, who caught him and hugged him wordlessly. The lock of her arms was so strong that Legolas thought his ribs are going to break; but then both the twins crept closer and enclosed them in an embrace as well. They had sorrow written all over their faces. Their touch emanated with genuine sorry. It was all real.
"We do want to speak to you," Verién said. "Even more so, for you are our friend, and you have been mistreated. We want to care for you and protect you. Can you not see," she sniffed, "all their doings are wrong! They hurt you! They make you believe you are worse! They force you into work, they torture you physically and mentally, they threaten lives and well-being of your beloved and families. They kill you." She swallowed thickly. "Or they use you in a way that would bring you death in fading."
"You have been born without any guilt," Elladan choked out. "You are a rightful son of your people. Elves kidnapped and enslaved are rightful sons and daughters of their realms. Deep down inside, we all have the same worth, even if our status in society may differ. There are Kings who are monsters, and there are slaves who are the bravest and purest of all Elves I know." The twin swallowed thickly. "You did not ask to be born. You were given this life from the Valar as an eternal fief. The rape did not taint you. You are pure and innocent, I know no other Elf like you, Legolas," he said.
"In Elven realms from the Sea to the borders of Gondor there is no slavery. Not because only worthy live there. Among Elves, just like among people, there happen to be evildoers. There is no slavery because it is wrong. It is against the intent of Eru. It is fault almost as great as breeding orcs by Melkor in the ancient time! This is wrong! And you, all of you, you have done nothing to deserve this fate! Be this life your first or be you reborn, you have done nothing which could possibly sentence you to slavery. This is all the plot of Lathronios. All these are his lies and his foul deed." Elrohir was speaking, holding Legolas' head by both his hands and pressing their foreheads together.
Legolas was listening, willing to believe his friends are saying only true, but unable to accept it. He searched deeply in his mind for something else, some other crime which could doom him and seal his fate, some uncontested proof that could never be broken by these new, appealing vision; but he found none. He shyly looked at Verién, at the twins. A first sign of understanding appeared in his eyes.
"But… in kingdoms of Men, slavery happens often. Does that mean…?" he asked uncertainly.
"Yes, it happens. As we told you, there are good and bad kings, good and bad farmers, good and bad Men. In each of us there are good and bad decisions. Listen, I know what is confusing you so; you can't understand why have we chosen to be the 'good' ones instead of taking profit from misdoings. You can't see why we don't want it and you sense a trap even now. It is a question of trust. You must decide in your own heart whether to trust us to be good or not. We want to be good and act righteously without being given anything back just because we want it so, we see it as a right thing to do, we were raised this way… I can't explain or convince you with words, I know… it's just we really are… we really try to be good… just because." Verién whispered. The twins nodded, looking at her.
Legolas felt tears in his eyes. Master Elrond told him the same thing, 'just because', on the balcony when he told him about the rape. The Elf swallowed again, fighting against the bile in his throat.
"We are all the children of Ilúvatar, Elves, Men, Dwarves, other races. We all have a right to be here. He made us equal. You are like us. You are free. You can do with your life what you feel right and good to do. You have the right to choose." Verién said convincingly. Her eyes were shining with only sincerity.
"Believe this," Elrohir said. "Just trust with your heart. What else can we say to make you believe us? Open your eyes. You have never been treated like a slave in Imladris, because we all believe you to be a free, rightful Elf, equal to us! And as such, you deserve respect, help, friendship, love and care." The twin rested both his palms on Legolas' shoulders and glanced deep in his eyes. "Answer me now: have you met with anything beside that in Rivendell? Have you?"
Legolas felt the last wall of his defense shatter and collapse under the intensity of Elrohir's gaze and two big tears slipped unchecked from the corners of blue eyes.
"No, no, I haven't," Legolas moaned. "I believe you. I believe…"
He was once again enveloped in a crushing hug and there, safely locked, he wept until the first silvery droplets of upcoming downpour wetted their faces, hair and clothes. Weeping out the cheeks and noses, the four friends curled back into their bedrolls, having shut the gap in the ceiling. Shielded from the downpour, they could nest close together, cuddling for warmth and consolation. Firstly shy, then all the more brutally the rain started to knock in the wooden walls of the tiny room.
"If so…" Legolas started very quietly. "If we are the same and this is wrong… why have you let Lathronios do it? Why haven't the other Elf Lords stopped him?"
A silence and bowed heads answered Legolas. The twins looked suddenly crestfallen, and Verién angry.
"To withstand Lathronios would be to start a war," she said through the clenched teeth. "He cannot bear any criticism. Uncle Elrond had been writing letters to him, sending envoys; the Lords of a Golden Woods of Lothlorien negotiated, pleaded and called to his sense of morality as well. It had a result in only intensified suffering of the slaves in Mirkwood," Verién uttered.
"We cannot start a war. It would be to involve Lothlorien as well, because I cannot imagine Lord Celeborn or Lady Galadriel passively looking. And war is a death of thousands. Mirkwood is a well supplied fortress; it would take months of besiege to take it. And the chances are thin. Besides… you can imagine what Lathronios would do to the slaves before we even entered the stronghold."
"Slaughter them," Legolas said. His stare was empty, and he looked suddenly so very tired. He buried his face in his bedroll.
"So there is not even a chance to see Moreth ever again."
"If they rebelled, it would be a chance," Elladan said.
"Rebelled?" Legolas repeated in a very empty voice. "And how many of them against the whole Lathronios' army? How would they fight without weapons? How, without strength they are so systematically robbed of? How, when… they do not know they are …they are deceived," Legolas hid his face in his hands not to see his friends. He pressed his knees to his chest, curling in his bed and lying completely still. Verién crept closer and hugged him fiercely, then started rocking back and forth, very much like Elrond did some time ago. Legolas clutched her arms, inviting the comforting gesture.
"Listen, there is always a possibility of a miracle to occur. Uncle Elrond is worried, this matter is troubling him. I am sure he will find a way sooner or later. Or the other Elf Lords will. There must be a solution. Do not be sad. It will be alright." Verién spoke delicately, soothing Legolas.
"I had felt better without the knowledge you granted me," Legolas whispered. "I simply felt better..."
They did not find the words for that.
One thought struck Verién's mind. There will simply be no better opportunity to dig the whole story out of Legolas' troubled, haunted mind.
"Legolas," Verién asked. "Maybe I should not ask you about it," she stopped uncertainly. Legolas turned to her. "But could you tell us about Mirkwood? How all that happened?"
Legolas was quiet for a while, avoiding their eyes. He considered it long.
I may refuse, but what's the point? he thought. One day I will have to tell the whole story. And once more I will cry and tremble. Maybe it is better to do it today, to finally end one chapter in my life? Besides… they are my friends…
"Yes," he said. "I think you should know the story. I think you want to know, and… maybe it will be simply better," he smiled.
"We are listening," Elrohir whispered. Elladan reached to him another mug with brownish, bitter whiskey. Legolas did not hesitate; he accepted, dried it and started a long awaited story.
(1) Elvish "short seasons of the year" in English.