Forever Afternoon
Chapter Three
Word Count: 3,864
Rating/Disclaimer/Summary: Same as chapter 1, really
Author's Note: I suppose now I should say that this is "officially" AU. It was the moment I decided that Aragorn did not go hunting Gollum alone. Since there is not a lot of information about what Legolas was doing at the time or an explanation for why Gollum was taken to Mirkwood, it is not impossible. It might even make sense.

Though... a part of me is still wondering if maybe I should have made these short episodes instead of going for a united story/plot or if I should have started with the ideas I had for the trilogy or even just after Gollum is captured. I realized this seemed to have a bit less action than Storms, at least in the first bit, and I know that's because there's still so much set up to be dealt with. At least I threw in some humor to make that set up more enjoyable. I hope.

Discussing Departures

"You could come with," Aragorn began, knowing that the elf had heard him approaching. With things as strained as they had been, he decided to consider himself fortunate that Legolas hadn't left when he heard him coming up behind him.

"I do not know that I should," Legolas answered. "Perhaps it would be better if we spent time apart. We may only feel this tension because we have been around each other for so long. You have your duties to the rangers—you have even fought for Gondor and Rohan—and I am a prince of Greenwood. This land's safety is my priority, even as much as I enjoy seeing other realms. I am meant to stay here, and you are meant to wander, at least for now."

Aragorn shook his head. "I know it is not because I 'wander' that you want me to go. You are still angry with me."

"I am not certain that anger is the right word for it, though in some ways, I think you are more of a child than you were when I first knew you," Legolas told him. "Has war made you so bitter that you are unwilling to forgive? Where is the boy that would cause all that great mischief with his twin brothers? I have been trying desperately to hold onto my own hope, but I did not see how much of yours you had lost."

Aragorn frowned. "I did not lose hope—"

"You still hoped that you would find me, yes. You still hoped that I would be alive. You did not abandon me, but it was your faith in others that faltered. From the moment we met with Firyavaryar, you distrusted him, and not even my assurance was enough for you. I do not know if that was the dream or something else, but you did not even trust me to know my friend."

"You hadn't seen him in centuries, Legolas. You knew nothing of what he was and you said you felt something of the shadow in him. I was right not to trust him."

Legolas shook his head. "Whatever else had changed about Varyar, one thing was constant. He was loyal to his family. Always. That I knew I could trust, that did not alter, and yes, I could have seen his betrayal coming because I knew the choice he would make. I told you that mere hours before my capture. I knew. I knew, and I did not stop. Why is it you only blame him?"

Aragorn wanted to react in anger, wanted to tell him he was a fool for taking the blame and for defending Firyavaryar again, but he forced himself not to, not wanting to prolong this fight between them. He wanted his friend back—not that Legolas had gone, but things were not the same even when he was present—and he thought Legolas wanted their relationship back to the way it had been before as well. He did not know that he understood the anger he felt, and his conversation with Mithrandir had left him feeling the same.

"What is happening, Legolas? What is this shadow that has fallen upon our friendship?"

"It is not Firyavaryar. Even if he lived, he had not that power. I do not see how it could have been Ogol—he did not know of our close friendship and would not seek to break it. Perhaps something else is at work. You are about to set out after a creature that we believe may have had the ring of power. That may have increased the doubts and fears in your own mind, but I do not know that it can only be that as Mithrandir made the request of you yesterday and this has been growing between us for some time now."

"We know that Sauron's power is growing."

"Do we believe that he would seek to divide us? To what purpose? If he knew where you were, it would be simpler to have you killed," Legolas said, frowning. "I cannot see his intent in driving apart our friendship. I would like it to be the work of the shadow, but I fear it is something that we ourselves have done—me in my grief and you in your frustration."

"Ada said that perhaps Firyavaryar's actions were meant to prepare you for a later time," Aragorn said, not liking that suggestion much. "I do not know that I agree with that—why would I want to if it means that you must endure torture again? No. That will not happen as long as I am with you. I will not allow it."

Legolas managed a smile. "I know you would try, and I know you still blame yourself for this first round of torture, but I promise you, this was not your doing, nor could I ever blame you. I blame Ogol alone for what was done to me."

"I know."

The elf turned away, familiar but unspoken words—arguments that they had already had several times—hanging in the air between them. "Have you considered that the lesson in all of this was never meant for me?"

"What, for Firyavaryar?"

"It would have been a poor one considering that he is dead," Legolas said, sounding a bit annoyed. "What if the person it was meant for was you, Estel?"

"Me?"

"Why not? You are to rule the reunited kingdoms. You will be on the throne of Arnor and Gondor someday, and you have a great many tests to face before then. The mark of a king, my father has told me before, is not in his blood, for blood cannot make the choices that we must make. It is not in how well you fight or how diplomatic you are. It is in making and living with the difficult decisions."

"There is wisdom in that."

Legolas laughed. "Do not act as though it is so surprising that my father has wisdom. He is a good king and a good father, and he has been for centuries longer than you have been alive. He has faults, and I cannot deny them, but I love him."

Aragorn held up a hand. "Peace. I was not trying to insult your father, though I did see you grimace when you said the words—"

"The last time I repeated them was for Varyar," Legolas said. "I told him that in the throne room not long before he... Well, his reaction was similar. He said my father was wise."

"Perhaps we need a bit of that wisdom to help us now. Though... I admit I would rather ask Mithrandir."

"Coward," Legolas muttered, and they both laughed.

"Perhaps we should have stayed in Greenwood," Sérëdhiel said, frowning at the village. "I knew we would not be welcome in our former home, but I did not think we would be forced into this again. No good has ever come of us living near men."

"I do not want to stay here any more than you do, but I cannot walk any further," Alassë said, her hand on her stomach. "I would make my husband carry me if he was good for carrying anything other than books."

Idhrenion glared at her. "You are fortunate that I love you. Not only have your moods been insufferable these last few months, but your insults have spread to everyone, and if you do not stop that, your cousin will remember his training and silence you."

"He is only not carrying you because he is still healing himself," Eruaistaniel said, leaning against Nostalion for support. Alassë was not the only one who needed rest.

Sérëdhiel shook her head, touching her brother's arm. "Stop it. I know that bickering is your favorite activity, but that must cease while we are here. This is dangerous enough without the two of you behaving in a way that draws more attention to us."

"We should not linger," Nostalion said, his eyes going to the group of men outside the tavern. "If we are stopping for the night, then we must do so before we gather everyone's attention."

"I think that it would be better if we could find a place to stay for longer than a night," Sérëdhiel admitted. "The baby will come soon, and traveling has been difficult for Idhrenion and Eruaistaniel as well."

"I told you that you could return to Greenwood if you wanted," Varyar said from the back of their group. "We are close enough to their borders again for that journey, and perhaps it would be best to take it."

Sérëdhiel frowned. If they were to return to Greenwood, it would be without Firyavaryar. She understood that, but she hated it as well. She would rather take Alassë to the elven realm for the birth of her child, but Varyar would not go there after betraying Legolas. She knew that the prince would forgive him, but he would not forgive himself. "No. We will not leave you again, Varyar."

"I will go get us lodgings for the next month, then," he said, slipping past them and going toward the men. Sérëdhiel shuddered. She knew why her brother cared for most of their dealings with other races—his eyes tended to make those that he dealt with fear something far worse than the possibility of him being an elf, and they did not question why he remained covered.

"If this child takes a month to come, I will cut it out myself," Alassë said. She turned to Idhrenion. "You are never touching me again."

"I do not want to," he muttered, and she sighed as she sagged against him. He wrapped an arm around her, and Nostalion frowned at both of them.

"I know we could not continue this night, but I do not like this," she said, and her husband nodded, shifting his cousin into his arms as she tried weakly to protest. Eruaistaniel sighed, and Sérëdhiel reached over to cover her ears with her hair again.

"I hate that I am the reason we must stop," Alassë said, though if Eruaistaniel had more spirit, she would have argued the blame there. "I was never a burden before I was pregnant."

"Children are not burdens," Sérëdhiel said, thought there was a part of her that was glad that she was not the one carrying the child. She did not know that Nostalion would want children in the future, not after the way he was raised, but she did not think she herself would be opposed to it, if they were to have a child later.

"If you were, I would have left you both behind centuries ago," Varyar said as he rejoined them. "They were willing to rent us a place outside the village, but I think we will have to repair it again, as usual."

"Wonderful," Idhrenion said, grimacing as he adjusted Alassë's place in his arms. "I thought the point was for us to stop somewhere to rest."

"Those that need it will get it," Varyar told him. "Be fortunate. They assumed that I came here to die. We might not have gotten anything at all. As it is, however unfortunate the state of the structure, it is remote enough to give us privacy for as long as we are here. Same with my 'illness.'"

Idhrenion nodded, but his posture had gotten stiff, the way it always did when Firyavaryar mentioned anything close to him dying. Varyar liked to say that Sérëdhiel was the part of the family that held them all together, but she knew that he was. If they had lost him when Ogol died, they would not have known how to continue on. He was still so much to them. Brother and father and friend.

"At least it is close to Greenwood. If anything should go wrong, we can go there for help," Sérëdhiel said, trying to accept Varyar's decision, the first to follow after him as he started toward their new residence.

"Mirkwood."

Varyar stopped, looking back at Nostalion. "What?"

"The humans call Greenwood Mirkwood. If we are going to live among them, we should use the same name," Nostalion told him. "All of us should."

"I do not think I could ever call Greenwood by that name," Idhrenion said, grimacing, and Sérëdhiel nodded in agreement. She would always see her time in Greenwood with Prince Legolas as one of the better times in her life, and she would never consent to call their paradise by the horrible name that men gave it.

Mithrandir was not difficult to find, thanks to his pipe—the stench carried for a great distance even though it was not within the palace walls. Legolas figured his father would have to renew his edict about no pipeweed and threaten to have all who tried to bring it into his land imprisoned, giving the guards patrolling the borders orders to search everyone for it before allowing them passage into his kingdom. The wizard must have forgotten that threat, though Legolas supposed he must not have thought that Thranduil would mean it.

Legolas was all too certain that his father would do it. He did not know of any soldier in the kingdom that would object to the order. He could not think of one elf who enjoyed the smell of pipeweed. He should have asked Varyar or his companions. Did Avari find it any easier to tolerate than the wood elves?

The wizard looked up from his smoke, amused despite the frown that he gave Estel. "I see you have delayed your departure."

"For a while, yes," Estel answered the Istari, glancing toward Legolas, who smiled. He knew what had delayed the man from leaving as early as he had planned. "I have things that must be seen to first."

"He still wants to convince me to join him," Legolas explained. "I have yet to tell him no in a way that will satisfy him."

"I see." Mithrandir rose. "I think that may prove a prudent course."

"Prudent?" Legolas shook his head. "I do not think it wise. We have been quarreling because of our proximity. It is best that we spend our time apart. Besides, I have no desire to risk my life tracking a creature such as Gollum."

"You know little of what sort of creature he is, young Thranduilion."

Chastised, Legolas lowered his head. He had heard nothing more than secondhand tales, and they were not the sort to judge anyone by, as he well knew. He had wanted Estel to forgive, and yet he had committed a similar fault in judgment. He had spoken with prejudice, and he knew not to do so—this was a familiar failing of his. He had yet to overcome his dislike for dwarves.

"Still, I do not think that we should spend any more time together just now," Legolas said, swallowing down the unpleasantness in his throat. "We should do well to take what distance has offered us and use it to lessen this... division."

"Use distance to lessen a division?" Mithrandir laughed. "Beridhren would despair of your speech. He would tell you that you know logic better than that which you have just employed. As would a certain elf-maiden."

"Sérëdhiel would have kicked me," Legolas admitted, and Estel frowned at him. "I told you—she was like a sister. Do not think that she does not do the same to Idhrenion—or that she did not do so to Varyar when she felt it necessary. She is calm and logic, but she is strength and courage as well."

"And she can kick you?"

"Well, she hits sometimes, too, but she says a kick is more effective. Very logical, our Sérëdhiel."

Estel shook his head, but Legolas thought he was trying not to laugh. He should share more of the good stories with his friend. He did not know why he had not done so before—perhaps because all mention of Varyar annoyed him, but how could Estel be upset over how Idhrenion had convinced Legolas to mend his relationship with his father?

"I think that she would advise you to go with your friend."

Legolas frowned. "Why is it you want me to go? You did not ask me before—and you know that Estel is the better tracker in open ground. I tend to use what the trees tell me more than anything, and I am not certain that we will have many for me to ask."

"Yet I do not think that is all you can contribute to such a mission."

Estel turned to the wizard. "Is there something that you have not told us about this task you have set me upon? Why is it so important to you that Legolas accompany me, and if it is, why did you not say so from the beginning? What else aren't you telling us?"

Mithrandir drew himself up to his full height, frowning at Estel as he did. "You would accuse me of something now?"

"Be careful, Estel. You might not find it easy to be a king when you have been transformed."

"And who is to say that he would do that to me and not to you?"

"I accused him of nothing. I know there is a great deal that Mithrandir does not tell me, and I have come to accept that," Legolas answered. He studied the Istari for a long moment, trying to decide for himself why Mithrandir wanted him to go with Estel. "You know that even if were to agree, no one would be willing to let me go. The last time I left our borders, I was taken and tortured, and I have not been permitted to leave them since."

"Then you are willing to come with me," Estel said, and Legolas almost grimaced, caught by his own words. "I think we can find a way to distract your father and Ehtyarion. In fact, I believe he is standing right in front of you."

The wizard laughed, and Legolas tried not to groan.

"She is worried."

"I think that is what Sérëdhiel does, worries," Firyavaryar said, not looking at his brother as he leaned over the edge of the roof. Legolas would have something to say about him now preferring heights and even trees, but Varyar had chosen this place not for a vantage but because it was one of few places to be alone here. He did not know how much longer he would be able to tolerate this village. If not for Alassë and the baby, they would already have left.

"She worries because you have not announced a decision to leave."

"Alassë has not yet had the child, and she is unable to travel. That is why we settled here for the last part of her pregnancy. Then when the child comes, we shall be forced to remain as well. Is it Eruaistaniel she worries for? I do not think the bereth would find it pleasant to live so close to humans, but we have little alternative."

Nostalion looked at him. "Little alternative to the edain? You know that is not true. The prince of Greenwood wanted my wife for his court, and Lord Elrond offered to continue her education in healing if she chose to journey to Imladris."

"Would you prefer those places?"

"I cannot say as I have not seen the glory that is the last homely house," Nostalion answered. "I only mention that there were alternatives to the edain and pretending to be edain whenever we leave this forsaken place."

"Careful," Varyar warned. "You sound more like a dwarf at present."

"You are not amusing. Why have you not been trying to convince us all that you can make another journey to Greenwood's borders or Dol Guldur to kill orcs? Why have you suddenly stopped seeking your 'atonement?'"

"Eruaistaniel reminded me that when we venture out together, we leave them unprotected. That is not the vow I took. My family is not to be left unprotected. Ever." Firyavaryar closed his eyes. "What is atonement if I throw away that loyalty? I betrayed Legolas for them. I saved them, and I would save them again, but yet I walk away from them and leave them unprotected? That is illogical, and I do not know why Sérëdhiel allowed me to do it."

"You were dead," Nostalion reminded him, and Varyar frowned, uncertain if the other elf had sensed that or not—Nostalion should have known the entire time whether he lived or died, but if even the tracker's ability had said he was gone, then perhaps he had spent some time in Mandos' halls. He did not remember it, though.

"I am not dead." He should be, but he was not. "I do not think that I should be permitted any leniency because of my poor decisions. I am alive by some strange sort of... happenstance—I cannot claim it to be the Valar when I do not remember Mandos' halls and am not certain I believe in them."

"I was raised without faith in the Valar. I cannot tell you what you experienced."

Varyar looked at him. "You were raised without faith so that you could not question the orders that you were given or the training you endured, but you have lived your life free of your family since we escaped from Draugminaion. You have had enough time to learn of the rest of the world and form your own opinions now. Has that changed? I know Sérëdhiel chose to believe in the Valar, and Idhrenion seems to sometimes, but I never asked you how you felt about them."

"It has never mattered before."

Firyavaryar shook his head. "It has never been asked because you always let me talk about nothing rather than speak yourself. I cannot take your silence—anyone's silence—so I fill it in with my words, and you are glad to let it continue that way."

"There is no need for as much conversation as others seem to think."

"You did better in the isolation and silence that Draugminaion used against us than I did," Varyar said, shaking his head. He should have expected that—Nostalion was accustomed to being alone. He had always been that way, unlike Varyar, who had been close to his siblings all his life.

"This is not about Draugminaion."

"No, it is not," Varyar agreed. He frowned, looking down at the street. "However, my answer to your question will have to wait. That crowd is not a friendly one. I do not think those edain are pleased by how long it has taken me to die."

Nostalion cursed. "This is what comes of staying near the edain. It is always trouble."

"Not all edain are evil."

"Are you going to claim the one named hope as the one that is not? You know he hates you."

"Immaterial. He is good to Legolas," Varyar said. He grimaced. "I will go get the others and start them moving. Try not to kill the edain while I am gone."

Nostalion grunted. "I will not make any promises."