Forever Afternoon
Chapter Eight
Word Count: 4,021
Rating/Disclaimer/Summary: Same as chapter 1, really
Author's Note: Well, there is a problem with transition chapters... They are transitions, and I'm sure this is a bit of an awkward one to start filling in a bit of the gap between Gollum and the fellowship, and it is far too full of elf baby = adorable, but there are still plenty of subplots floating around, as well as a lot of characters, which is why I called this one congestion. I'd say the next one would be clarity, but that is too much to hope for.

Congestion

"Have you learned anything of use from him yet?"

"Patience, Estel," Mithrandir advised, and had Legolas been there, he would have smiled, but he would probably admit that he was no more appeased by the Istari's words than the man was. Aragorn wanted to know that they had not made that journey for no reason, that it was worth the screeches and bruises and cuts that Legolas had endured on their trek. "What there may be to know about Gollum is not easily known. It will take time and gentle persuasion."

"Gentle persuasion?" Aragorn demanded. He could not believe that. "That thing attacked Legolas more than once on our trip. He could have killed him, and you want to be gentle with him?"

The wizard nodded. "There are more things that can be learned with kindness than brute force."

Aragorn could agree with that to a point. He knew that many times torture ended in death, and even if it did not, it fostered hate and resentment. He also thought that treating Gollum as though he were some kind of guest went against everything he knew of the creature. Gollum hated elves—though he had developed some kind of fear of Legolas that kept him safe for part of the journey—and Aragorn thought it likely that Gollum would try to harm someone while he was here. It was not wise to treat him as anything less than a prisoner.

"I still think that we need to do something more than have a polite conversation with him. He did attack Legolas and—"

"He did? And he lives?"

Aragorn nodded, stiffening. "You asked us to bring him back alive, and we did. We were able to subdue him, and we are not killers. Not most of the time, at least. Why would you ask that?"

"Oh, no reason," the wizard said, and Aragorn frowned, wondering what was behind that statement. "Ah, wait, young one. I would have a word with you."

"Young one?"

Aragorn could tell that name did not please Nostalion any more than it would have Legolas. Mithrandir smiled as though he did not notice—to him even the oldest of elves were young—but none of them liked to hear it.

"Yes. Come. You are the one called Nostalion, are you not?"

"I am, but I have nothing to say to you, Istari."

"Nevertheless, I have a very great deal to ask you. I am intrigued by this ability that you have—"

"It is not for sale."

The wizard tried to make his expression appealing, adopting a fatherly air that Aragorn thought was a mistake, knowing what little he did of the elf's ada. "I am not interested in buying it. I wish to understand it and—"

"And use it." The elf's eyes darkened, and he shook his head. Aragorn figured if Mithrandir wasn't a wizard, he would have found himself at the end of the assassin's blade. "No. I have no interest in your politics, and I will not be a part of your manipulations. You may save them for the ranger and the prince. Even were my services for sale, there is no price that you could pay to have them."

"I am not trying to buy anything," Mithrandir began again. "Your hostility is unfounded."

"It is not." Nostalion glared at him. "Do not think I am so ignorant of your actions as you suppose. I know that Firyavaryar asked you for help against Ogol when he was a child, and you did nothing. You and Lord Elrond both. You will get the same from me—nothing."

"I did not know how to remove the marks as he asked," Mithrandir said, but Nostalion had not stayed to listen to him. Aragorn turned to the Istari, still frowning. He did not understand. That accusation could not be true.

"He is lying, isn't he? You and Ada did not refuse to help Firyavaryar, did you?"

Mithrandir drew in a breath. "It is not that I refused to help. At the time, it was beyond my means, and when I did know more, I could not help as he had fled Greenwood and Imladris by then. He had passed beyond our sight. That is part of why Nostalion's ability is of such interest. If he can, in fact, track any of Firyavaryar's family, that is more than we could do, and yet there is something of the nazgûl to it—his ability to hunt, to be drawn to what he seeks... It is of concern to all of us."

Aragorn nodded. He could see that, as he had his own reasons to be troubled by what Nostalion could do. "I understand that, but I do not think that Legolas will."

"We did not know that it was not necessary for things to pass this way. I still do not know who Ogol truly was. He could be one of many—it is difficult to know if he was one I should have known or one who showed himself only to the shadow."

"I thought that you read everything they took from Ogol's realm."

"That does not mean that he betrayed his identity in them. He was quite careful not to do so. It suggests to me that he had an identity to conceal, but I do not know. Firyavaryar was our only connection to him—and he may well have been our only hope of defeating him."

Aragorn grimaced. "I think it is best if Legolas does not learn of this. He will not forgive it."

"Legolas is preoccupied at the moment."

"That will not last. They will leave again."

"Careful, Alassë. I think there is another who wants to steal your child," Sérëdhiel teased, and her sister grimaced. She did not try to take the baby from Legolas, but Sérëdhiel knew that she wanted to, same as she had with almost everyone who had come to visit them. Thenidriel fascinated and enchanted everyone who met her.

"I will not steal her, though I suppose that would be a way of ensuring that you stay this time," Legolas teased, lifting the baby up and getting a giggle of delight from her. "She has Idhrenion's smile—which is your smile, Sérëdhiel. Varyar's smile."

"Nana's smile," she said, overwhelmed but the sudden sadness that brought her. She had not experienced such a sharp pain regarding her mother's loss in many years. "We all got that from her. She was so beautiful, Legolas. I wish you could have met her. She was... special."

"I know. She would have had to have been to be your mother," Legolas agreed, a smile on his face. "I am glad you came here to have her, Alassë. It is good to have a gwinig among us again, and good to have old friends as well."

"I am not certain I consider you a friend when you keep threatening to drop my daughter like that," Idhrenion muttered, reaching to try and take Thenidriel from the prince. Legolas laughed at his grumbling, refusing to hand the child over. His smile widened as he saw someone in the doorway.

"Estel! There you are. You slept late. Come and meet Thenidriel. Here is another elf-maiden to steal your heart."

Idhrenion frowned. "Another?"

Sérëdhiel shook her head. "It was not I, and do not dare spread that to Nostalion. Someone already upset him by suggesting that Legolas was in love with me once."

"If Nostalion could love you, I think anyone could, but none of us here are foolish enough to say that Legolas loved you in front of him," Alassë muttered. She caught her husband's glance and shook her head. "Do not be an idiot, Idhrenion. It was not me, either. I was not the slightest bit civil to the ranger during our entire travel together."

"I do not think it could have been me," Eruaistaniel whispered. "I was not even conscious."

Legolas smiled at all of them in turn. "No, it was none of you, though I am glad that you did recover after all, Eruaistaniel. I had been told that you were to fade and be buried with your ancestors."

She flushed, lowering her head. Sérëdhiel did not want him asking her about that—asking any of them about it. If it were true that she had survived because Varyar lived, then Legolas would soon know of that fact, and while Sérëdhiel did not like keeping it from him, she knew that her brother, at least, was not ready for it to be known. He still felt that he had to atone for giving Legolas to Ogol, and she knew her brother well enough to know that could take centuries.

"What is her name?" the ranger asked, coming over to look at Thenidriel.

"You do not know the name of the elleth you lost your heart to?" Sérëdhiel shook her head. "I fear that is a poor sign of your relationship."

The ranger grimaced. "I know the name of—I was talking about the child, and I do not need to have Legolas spreading his teasing to all of you."

The prince smiled. "Arwen."

"Lord Elrond's daughter?" Sérëdhiel looked at the ranger, almost thinking she pitied him. "You do reach for impossible things. I do not know that you can succeed in that, but it is interesting that you would try."

The ranger frowned. "What would you know of—I forgot. You knew all of them before."

"I did not know Arwen, only of her, but I still know you reach for the impossible in the Evenstar," Sérëdhiel told him. She folded her hands in her lap, wishing that Nostalion had not left to confer with Varyar. She thought they would be leaving soon, but she could not know for certain. It would be difficult, traveling with the gwinig, but she did not know that they could stay, either.

"I think we have embarrassed Estel enough for now," Legolas said, passing the baby to his friend. "Her name is Thenidriel."

"Beautiful name," the man said, smiling down at her. "It means loyal, doesn't it?"

"Yes, well, I wanted to name her after Firyavaryar, but Alassë did not want to, and in the end, we found something of a compromise, though he would still hate it."

The ranger nodded, and Sérëdhiel thought she saw a stiffness to him that accompanied the mention of her brother. She had not expected the man to forgive Varyar as Legolas had done, but now she knew that she should keep his survival a secret.

She did not know how to get them to leave so as to prevent that secret from being revealed. "How was your journey?"

"Long," Legolas said, sounding a lot like Varyar as he dismissed the entire leaned down over Thenidriel to put his finger in her hand. "Worth it to see this, though."

Sérëdhiel sighed. As adorable as that was, it could not last. "Legolas, you know that we cannot stay. Trouble follows us, and you have enough of it here already."

He frowned. "Do not say that. I do not want you to go, not now—not ever. You cannot travel with such a small child anyway. You must stay here until Thenidriel is much, much older. I am not the only one who would say that."

"Indeed. I think I should give an order to the guards not to let this one out of the borders," King Thranduil said, plucking the baby from the startled ranger.

"Ada," Legolas said, but he started laughing as his father played with Thenidriel in the same way that he had been a few moments before. Sérëdhiel would have joined the others in laughter if she did not think that Thranduil meant what he said. He would not want them to go, not when their presence made his son smile like that—and he was not the only one who was thoroughly charmed by the baby.

"Please. We cannot stay forever."

Thranduil did not look up from the baby. "Yes, you can."

She shook her head. "Would you say that if my brother were alive?"

"Yes," Legolas insisted, though the raised eyebrow his father gave him suggested otherwise.

"You know we cannot. And you know why," Sérëdhiel said, directing her words toward Legolas. He should know better. Even if he had forgiven Firyavaryar, not everyone else would. She was uncomfortable enough as it was. She did not like being here, knowing that if anyone had told the full story of what Varyar had done, they would be forced to leave. That was if they were not harmed because of it.

"You are welcome here as long as I am here," Legolas said. He gestured to his father. "As long as you have Thenidriel here, you will be welcome."

"Can you truly be a hundred years old?"

Varyar shuddered. As it was, he felt as small and helpless as a child, uncertain how he had stumbled across Ogol's path again. He heard the laughter of the orcs, and he tried not to think of how humiliated he was. The orcs had overwhelmed him, but it was Ogol that hurt him. It always was. That was his right, punishing his pet.

"Varyar."

Forcing his eyes open, uncertain why he seemed to sleep with them shut when he remembered Ogol in his dreams, Firyavaryar looked up at his gwador. "Is the palace that intolerable that you had to come find me?"

Nostalion grunted. "I considered trying to kill the wizard."

"Amusing idea. Impractical, but I think I would have enjoyed seeing you attempt it."

The assassin gave him a dark look. "If you still want to search for that cure, I think we should do it now."

The cure. Varyar looked down at his hands. He knew that he wanted that, probably more than he wanted anything, even redemption. He owed a debt to Legolas, but he could easily convince himself that he would be better at repaying that debt if he was not a walking plague. He could at least avoid what had happened in the village. He did not want to repeat that.

He did think he was willing to kill that Gollum, though.

"Varyar?"

Lifting his head, he faced his friend. "No. We should wait."

"Wait?"

He forced himself to nod. "They will be guarded for some time now that Gollum is here. They will be watching, worrying, and guarding. Were we to attempt to look at things that I assume they have locked away—and they would have locked it away—it could end in our capture. I do not want to risk you or the others in that way."

"So you will remained diseased rather than risk being caught? I should have sent Sérëdhiel to argue with you."

Firyavaryar was too tired to laugh. "You did not because you know that she would agree with me. It is inconvenient, but I have survived for over a century this way, and we do not know that Ogol had a cure at all."

Nostalion sat down beside him. "I do not think I have agreed with many of your decisions since you encountered your old friend. You are being... foolish and more stubborn than usual."

That time, Varyar did laugh. "I do not think I am more stubborn, though foolish I will agree to, since I know I am that and always have been, especially when it came to being here and being Legolas' friend. I knew that I would lead Ogol to him someday, knew I would betray him, and yet I did not leave. I let myself believe what he assured me—that we could fight and defeat anything together. There is something about Legolas that makes you believe that such a thing is possible—he would allow everyone to believe the best in themselves. It is a curious thing, a rare gift that I do not think anyone should have—it would lead them straight into disaster. Yet I fear he shares it with his echil."

"A quality that a king should have."

"He is not a king yet."

"He may yet have to be one. Should he not be worthy of that role?"

"Would you say that any of the edain was worthy of such honor?"

"No."

Varyar had not expected any other answer. He leaned back against the tree. "What if there is no cure? I tell myself that it will not matter if there is not—I have lived this way long enough to have accepted it. This is how I am now. This is what I am now. Draugminaion made me into a monster—finished Ogol's work, I suppose—and I will never be as I was."

"Do you fear to hope too much?"

"You and I have not had much hope in our lives. It does not seem to be something that we should dare reach for, as it is almost always disappointment. I do not want to think about the cure. It is best to assume there is not one."

"Now you are being a coward."

"Why am I still alive? It does not—if I was returned by the Valar, I should not have a plague, but I do not know how I could have survived that fall." Varyar rubbed his head. "I know we cannot remain here for much longer, and a part of me feels that I should get us to leave now, regardless of whether or not they have the cure. I do not know if that is cowardice or prudence."

"I think there is too much attention surrounding Thenidriel for us to leave quietly. We will either need confusion or chaos to slip away. As it is, her absence will draw everyone's attention to us, and they may be able to track her as they cannot your brother, sister, or you."

Varyar grimaced. "I should have ensured that my brother could never have children."

"You do not enjoy being a grandfather?"

"I can kill you, you know."

Nostalion smiled.

"Gracious lady. How good it is to see you again."

Sérëdhiel stopped in the middle of crossing the room, her lips thinning as she looked at the two new arrivals, and Legolas thought that she showed remarkable restraint in holding back the groan that she undoubtedly would have given if she were not a very polite elleth. "No."

Legolas laughed. The twins gave him a slight frown. Elladan stepped forward, looking grieved. "Are you truly so upset to see us?"

"Yes," she answered, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at both of them.

Legolas was not the only one who laughed then. He saw Thenidriel smiling—she must have her uncle's sense of humor, though it could have been Alassë's. He would rather believe it was a part of Varyar that lived on. He already knew he would enjoy this visit, as unexpected as it was.

"Why is have you come?"

"I see we are equally as welcome in your opinion," Elladan said wryly, shaking his head, though he smiled. He exchanged a look with Elrohir before turning to Estel. "The Dúnedain have been missing their leader."

"They have not," the ranger protested immediately. "Halbarad is more than capable of leading them in my absence."

"Admit it—you just wanted to see this," Legolas said, holding up Thenidriel. She was a source of fascination for all of them, and he would not have her now if his father had not been summoned away for the important tasks of being a king, ones he had almost made Legolas a part of until he begged to have a few more minutes with the gwinig. "Unfortunately, you will never get her. She is mine."

"No, she is mine," Alassë said, taking her daughter from Legolas' hold. "I think she has had enough company for one day—and even if she has not, I certainly have. Out. All of you."

"Not all of us," Idhrenion said, and she managed a slight smile as he came around to embrace both of them. Legolas smiled at the sight. They were a happy family, despite everything, and he would have a portrait made of this moment if he could. He wanted to remember those smiles and that love for the rest of his life, to use times like this to sustain him in the darkness.

"Very well, if we must go," Elrohir said. He turned to Sérëdhiel. "May we continue to keep you company, dearest lady?"

"I am going to find my husband," she said, slipping past them. Legolas laughed at their crestfallen expressions, knowing that all of this was for show. Estel shook his head at his brother's antics.

"You must have been far worse to her when she was in Imladris."

"Insufferable she called us, and Firyavaryar threatened to leave us somewhere no orc would dare tread if we did not stop annoying her," Elladan agreed with a smile. "I still do not understand why she does not see our charm."

"I do," Alassë muttered, shoving them toward the door with one hand. "Out. Go. Now."

"Your pardon, my lady. We would not want to disturb you or the little one."

She glared at them before she shut the door, locking them all out. Legolas smiled. He did like Alassë. She and Thenidriel were good additions to Varyar's family. He did not like Nostalion as much, but he was still glad they were here.

"Why did you come?" Estel asked. "Was it to see the baby? I swear, the sight of all these grown elves going baby crazy—"

"It may well be that it is because they are Avari that they are having children, but you know most elves have stopped," Elrohir said. "We are a fading race, and our time in Middle Earth is almost done. Even were it not, elves do not breed as often as other races do. I do not know of any family that had children without a gap of at least ten years between them, so if you think of that, gwador, then you understand that it has been some time since any of us has seen a gwinig—an elf gwinig, at least."

"There is one family that made that gap less," Legolas reminded him. "Varyar's parents had him and his siblings without a ten year gap between them. I believe only five years separate Sérëdhiel from Idhrenion, though many times you would not know it."

"Idhrenion was the protected youngest sibling," Elladan said. "He was allowed to be more of a child than Firyavaryar or Sérëdhiel. In some ways, when he moved into the role of 'father,' she became a sort of 'mother.'"

Legolas nodded. He saw Estel was uncomfortable with their topic again. He grimaced. "You do have a reason for being here besides the baby."

Elladan nodded. He looked to Estel. "We know you tracked and captured Gollum and that Mithrandir is interviewing him. That he believes he knows the location of the one ring."

"The Shire."

"Yes," Elrohir agreed. "The same Shire that you and the Dúnedain protect."

"The one that I am not there protecting now," Estel said, understanding his brothers' meaning with reluctance. "You have come to get me to return."

"If the ring is there, then we must find a way of protecting its bearer without attracting notice to it itself. Gollum may already have told others what he knows of its fate. You are a ranger, you know the risks of the ring, and you are the ideal choice to prevent its discovery while Mithrandir continues his investigation."

Legolas felt a weight settle into his chest. "I cannot go with you this time, Estel. Ada has given me the task of guarding Gollum—you know how he seems to fear me—and I must remain to see to that duty until Gollum is released."

Estel nodded. "I know. I would not ask you to come."

"You would not have to ask. I would gladly go with you, mellon-nín, if I only could."