Hîr o Meril Thaifn [Lord of Rose Pillars]

Part Eleven: Legolas Throws a Tantrum

"You lied, do not even try and deny it! You have lived here all this time and never revealed the relationship between Dammand and Mairo. You kept it from me; obviously your loyalty is not as unfailing as you would have me think it!" Legolas bellowed, going up on his toes so he could focus the scathing glare of his vividly lapis eyes directly into Galion's agitated amber ones. "What else have you been hiding? Did you know how Erestor really feels about me? Have you conspired to keep me in the dark about that, too?" He could not hold the pose, however, feeling very unsteady and a bit sore, and dropped back to his soles. To counter the loss of stature, for he was a good six inches shorter than the venerable butler, he crossed his arms over his chest and turned his back on his old tutor.

"Nay, you are completely wrong about this, Brannonlas," Galion tried not to be offended, for he could see his charge was in acute distress, but it was difficult to hear such words and not be wounded by them. "I knew nothing of Dammand and Mairo and I have kept nothing from you about Erestor. My devotion to you is unshakeable and you should know this beyond question. What is all this about? Erestor's feelings have always been ambivalent and Tulus and I have worked steadily to soften him in your regard. Did I tell you to let him bed you the first time you find yourself alone with him?"

"Well you certainly did not advise against it! Your actions spoke more eloquently than your silence, Galion; you encouraged me and you know it!" Legolas paced around the small bathing chamber, climbing into and out of the empty tub as he made the circuit for there was no other way around with Galion in the room. He had insisted on speaking with his long-time friend alone and since Legolas refused to exit the bathroom Galion had been forced to go in.

"How do you come to that notion?" demanded the Chief Steward of Meril Thaifn hotly, watching Legolas with apprehension. The youngest of Thranduil's children, once his temper was fuelled, was not an easy companion with which to be locked in a tiny space.

"Oh let me see: first, you let him tend to me when I was sick instead of having Tulus take care of me. Erestor had his hands all over my naked body for hours! Second, you made sure he brought me all my favourite things for breakfast so I would feel all mushy about his desire to please me so. I would wager he does not have the least idea of what kind of tea I drink! Third, and this is the crucial point, I do not have any clothes! What was I supposed to do when his fingers were roaming all over my aching flesh?" Legolas screamed right in Galion's ear to make sure he did not miss any of the words.

"I am not the one who arranged that special breakfast," denied the seneschal weakly, trying to back away but finding he could not go far before the sink pressed into his spine.

"He is quite right, Legolas; that is entirely my fault," these muffled words wafted through the door, Mithrandir being on the other side of it. "I did not truly intend to deceive you. Please come out and allow me to explain."

"Ego!" (Go away!) Legolas shouted and with a leap was before the door which he pounded with his fist so hard the wood shivered ominously. "I do not want to talk to you! You were watching us; I know you were. How dare you?" He slammed his palm against the portal again and kicked it for good measure. There was a noisy pop as the wood cracked, a long rent racing almost halfway up the door's length. "And stop eavesdropping!"

"I am not eavesdropping, you are shouting loudly enough for the Valar to hear you," replied the wizard tersely.

"So you cannot deny it; you were watching!" Legolas hollered in a strange combination of injured feelings and angry triumph. He pummelled the door again and then leaned upon it, finding he needed help remaining upright, pressing his cheek against the cool, smooth wood.

With his ear thus against its surface he could hear the soft sniffling of Tulus where she sat on the chair by his bed weeping. That caused him a brisk internal scolding for causing her to worry so. He caught the Istar's repentant sigh and wished he had not accused the wizard so harshly. He detected the almost silent footfalls of an elf walking across the marble foyer toward his rooms and everything else vanished from his awareness. He panicked. What if it is Erestor? Has he heard me?

Legolas pushed back from the door and wheeled about, grasping the butler's tunic in both hands, eyes wild and respiration coming in rapid, shallow gusts. He shook the worried elf frantically. "Galion, I have to get out of here! I cannot face him right now. Help me!" he whispered hoarsely.

"Ai, Pen Dithen, easy now," soothed the steward, gripping the archer's forearms with an iron clasp, determined to hold on and try to call him. "He is not out there; be calm."

"He is; I heard him approaching. Let me go; I have to get out!" Legolas jerked and twisted, trying to free himself, a hopeless endeavour which he remembered ruefully from his days in Greenwood, for Galion was more tenacious than a bulldog once he got his fingers firmly locked around a limb (or a neck). Legolas struggled harder, determined to make for the small open window above the tub and escape further humiliation, though where he planned to go in order to avoid that, naked and injured, he had not thought about. His thrashing only resulted in toppling them both into the smooth marble (pink of course) basin where they fell with a painful crash.

A loud grunt of agony and irritation combined accompanied the heavy thud of Legolas' shoulder striking the stone as Galion's shin slammed against the rim and he was yanked on top of the former Fellowship member. He banged his nose on the crown of Legolas' head and gave a sharp yelp. They both groaned in misery and had to wait a few seconds for the initial flare of acute throbbing to subside a bit before attempting to extricate themselves from the predicament.

Intensive rattling of the door handle ensued, joined by various shouts and yells of concern and fear for their welfare, in no less than four different voices.

"Legolas! Galion! What is happening?" cried Gandalf. "Stand back, let me blast the door."

"Herven? What have you done to Brannonlas? Open this door right now!" Tulus forgot her tears and was beating the wood with the flat of her hand.

"Cuthenin, please answer me! Are you all right? Let me in, Legolas, please!" Elladan was already distraught and this new development had him in a frenzy of dread. The wizard and the nanny were blocking his path and in vain he tried to get around them.

"Enough, you are not helping matters, none of you. Everyone, please step away from the door."

This calm, commanding voice did not issue from Dammand, nor from Elrohir, and certainly not from Erestor, for they were all in the Lord of Meril Thaifn's rooms while this disturbance took place. The melodious speech had a reassuring yet authoritative cadence Legolas had never heard before and his curiosity was awakened in spite of himself. He lifted his head and peered over Galion's shoulder, which was currently wedged under his chin and against his windpipe most uncomfortably, and watched as the door did not open but the owner of the voice entered anyway.

Mairo stood before the bolted barrier and gazed down upon them, meeting the Wood Elf's eyes with compassion and kindly concern. He was as tall as Dammand and built like a swordsman, broad shouldered and trim with thickly muscled arms which he showed off from his sleeveless green leather tunic. His thick mane of long black hair was bound back at the nape of his neck in a long glossy plait and around his brow he wore a woven band of leather above his deep-set hazel eyes.

The Maia's face was as pleasing to look upon as his form; his skin was hairless and tanned a golden brown and he kept a placid smile, more impression than expression, about his firm carmine lips. His jaw was strong without showing stubbornness; his nose straight without indicating haughtiness, his body bursting with vigour and strength yet projected no threat. He was dressed as if prepared for the hunt, wearing sturdy buckskin breeches and knee-high boots in black, and while he carried no weapons there was not a bit of doubt that he was quite capable of overpowering just about anyone, except perhaps Tulkas.

"Here, give me your hand," he said to Legolas and somehow managed to get both elves out of the tub and on their feet. As he surveyed the archer his worry grew, for the youngest son of Thranduil was trembling and the injured shoulder already had a spreading purple bruise marring it, but it was the haunted look in the watery blue orbs that troubled him most. Mairo turned his attention to Galion. "Go and fetch Legolas some of that Miruvor for he is shivering." Even as the steward bowed low in deference his eyes grew round in amazement for the Istar produced a neatly folded bundle of garments from the air and offered it to Legolas. "I am Mairo. Here, you will feel better once you are clothed."

"Thank you," murmured Legolas, surprised not to be upset that this stranger was helping him dress. He found he had trouble keeping his balance for a sharp throb in the head indicated he had bumped more than his shoulder in the fall. The support of a strong hand was a comfort rather than an embarrassment. He was equally amazed to find that these were in fact his own clothes, yet how they came to be at Meril Thaifn he knew not, unless Elladan had brought them. In no time he was clad in a loose white cotton tunic and indigo leggins.

He did not protest when Mairo wrapped a steadying arm around his shoulders and drew him out of the room, opening the door without touching it. Legolas felt safe, as he had when his eldest brother used to help him out of a scrape when he was an elfling. That comparison proved too much for his overburdened emotions, for it had in fact been centuries since Legolas had even seen Inarthan, and he did not have sufficient energy to fight the tears that fell.

Somehow they walked past the waiting visitors but Legolas barely noticed; he felt too confused and drained to try and explain anything. He was only aware of being grateful no one started firing questions at him as Mairo helped him back onto the bed and shifted the pillows so he could sit up against the headboard. He closed his eyes for a moment and sighed deeply, listening as Mairo ushered everyone out except Mithrandir. He heard Elladan's attempt at argument dwindle away as the outer door was shut. The mattress compressed slightly and he opened his eyes to find Mairo seated beside him, holding out a small glass.

"Sip it slowly and rest," he ordered gently and Legolas obeyed. "Worry not, Estë is on her way; all will be well soon."

"Are you certain that was wise? I am not eager for Legolas' whereabouts to become known among the Valar," said Mithrandir gravely.

"I know; we shall have to manage as best we can. He is in danger; can you not see? How long has he been like this?" Mairo's wondrous voice took on tones of remonstrance as he replied.

"Forever!" Legolas choked out around a sob and turned over to hide his face in the pillows. There were no tears left by this time but gnawing pain in his chest made him feel as though he would vomit. A melodic sprinkle of sound arose as he cast the delicate crystal goblet to the floor.

Mairo gently rubbed his back but did not say anything, only glaring hard at Olórin.

Mithrandir shifted around aimlessly, not pacing so much as roaming, and scowled; he was around Legolas so much he had failed to take note of the small changes that had been accumulating over time. The gradual decline from healthy, robust Wood Elf to depleted, grief-stricken silvan had escaped him. "I thought his injuries accounted for his condition, you see. He rarely returns from these missions whole. I did not neglect him purposefully."

Before Mairo could voice the retort that formed in his mind, Estë arrived. She walked into the room, opening the door like a normal creature of flesh and blood, closed it soundlessly behind her, and approached the bedside.

The Vala with the gift of restful healing was smiling gently, her perpetual expression, and her eyes held the picture of her depth of wisdom within them. They were as black as Mithrandir's but lacked the sharp and cunning edge his orbs projected. She was small in stature and slightly plump, with a face that showed what would be called age among humans, though not as advanced as that the Grey Pilgrim demonstrated. Her black hair was streaked here and there with white and gathered up in a tight bun at the back of her head, over which she had a lovely silken veil of pale peach, sheer and soft and edged in tiny golden beads. This head covering was wrapped across her chest and draped over her left shoulder where it cascaded down her back. Beneath this her gown was of a deeper, richer shade of salmon, long but slit from thigh to ankle, and beneath it she wore pants of matching hue, trimmed in matching bead-work. The shoes on her tiny feet were of soft black leather.

Estë did not hesitate, settling beside Legolas as Mairo immediately vacated his spot on the mattress. Soon it was the Vala softly soothing the distraught elf, murmuring comforting words and coaxing him into a calmer state of mind. In no time she had gathered him up in her arms and let him bury his head in her bosom. She let him snuggle close and soon had him pouring out all his woes in a broken chain of mumbled words distorted by remnant dry sobs. Estë waved one hand at the two Maiar to tell them to get out without having to interrupt the deluge of discontent and despair finally spilling over after so many centuries of being dammed up within the Wood Elf's compromised soul. It took a while longer before all his words were exhausted and Legolas loosened his clutching grip upon her exquisite gown with a deep and shaking sigh. She settled him back into the pillows but kept one of his hands firmly between her own.

"I just cannot bear it anymore," he said with quiet finality. "I have no friends here. I am alone and I cannot endure it."

"Nay, you are not alone. You have many friends, young one. Mithrandir is very devoted to you, for one," she countered.

"Mithrandir finds me useful in his endeavour to protect the Severed Realms, that is why he checks up on me."

"No, that is not true," she began but Legolas cut her off.

"It is! He does not ever ask to do anything with me that does not involve some plot or scheme."

"But my dear child that is all that Mithrandir ever does!"

"No, we are the last of the Nine and there should be more of a bond, yet he does not wish for such a thing. He goes to important meetings with Manwë and Oromë and visits with various people he is close to; people he has known here in Valinor much longer than he has known me. When he wants to relax, he spends time with Aiwendil."

Estë nodded sympathetically. "He is Maiar, you are elf-kind. Olórin's time in Middle-earth was short compared to his time here. There are many he counts as friends. Just because his circle is broader than yours does not mean he thinks less of you. But I know that is not what you mean." The Vala leaned forward and placed her palm over Legolas' heart. "In here, this is where you need friends just now. The emptiness has been growing daily and filling with darkness, stifling your inner light. Why have you not asked for help, young one?"

A listless shrug and a frown was all the answer Legolas would give.

"Is there truly no one you could turn to? What of Elladan and Elrohir? You have a close relationship to them, Legolas. You have known them since you were little more then an elfling and everyone knows there is a bond betwixt you three." Estë reminded. She meant to be encouraging and was not prepared for the twisting of her patient's features into such an expression of dire extremity.

"They pity me!" he spat out, blue eyes sparking with pain and rage. "They only like me for sex. They think nothing of me at all as a person. The bond is between the two of them and I am just an accessory they like to use occasionally to heighten their pleasure."

"If that is true then why is Elladan out in the hallway pacing in distracted anxiety over your well-being?"

"He feels guilty. He and Elrohir said things they should have kept private and ruined my chances with Erestor forever. The truth is, if I cease to exist he would feel bad only because of that guilt. And he would be just fine for Elrohir will always be at his side."

"Nay, Legolas, the reasons may be complex and convoluted but his concern is not founded in contrition alone. Have you ever wondered, if this bond between them is as strong as you say, how each endures the other's craving to be a part of your life as well?"

"Yes, I have wondered over it often. The answer must be that what they feel for me is so insignificant compared to the depth of love they share between them that neither is concerned over my casual inclusion in their union."

"Legolas, your inclusion, as you term it, is far more deeply rooted than you imagine. Elladan and Elrohir cannot turn from you or bear even the idea of having you removed from their lives. It is true, they feel guilt for keeping you close, yet they try and permit you to have a life beyond them. Never have they questioned or judged you regarding the numerous rumours of your amorous activities, but they worry about it all the time and wonder what part they played in placing you on that road. The twins have lived in dread that you would fade since the days of the ring Quest; if this should happen they would soon suffer grief as strong as you are suffering right now."

Legolas said nothing to that, too tired in body and spirit to bother arguing, but his eyes plainly revealed his doubt.

Estë sighed and sat back, placing both hands around his and giving another strong squeeze; the depression was very deep indeed and as yet she had not found the key to turn Legolas from his longing for death. She wondered if she should continue to try countering his stubborn assessment of friendlessness or switch to those that loved him dearly and would be devastated by his passing into Mandos. Legolas decided for her.

"My own family despises me. I have not seen Nana in 75 years and Inarthan has great-great-great-grandchildren I have never met. Adar wishes I had never been born. No wonder I cannot convince Erestor I am worth loving; there must be a great deal wrong with me for my blood kin to spurn me."

"Ah, this is also faulty reasoning. Your father has behaved poorly toward you and yet he attempted reconciliation when you arrived in Aman. You declined to accept his offer of peace. Had you done so, you could be with your family now. Why did you do this when the result has caused you such agony of spirit?" Estë already knew the answer, of course, but needed Legolas to speak his mind aloud.

"He asked of me something I deemed dishonourable," Legolas face clouded over with fierce rage as the memory filled his thoughts. "When I told him that, Adar accused me of betraying our family 'again' and declared I need not stay since I failed to appreciate the great gift of having so many relatives ready to 'forgive' my association with a Dwarf."

"And do you regret that you stood up to him and spoke your heart?"

Legolas was quiet for a long time, staring intently at the veins and wrinkles on Estë's hand where it still gripped his pale, unmarked fingers. "Nay, I do not regret it. I just miss my family."

"You are not estranged from them all. Your Naneth loves you still and Oropher dotes on you. He welcomed Gimli on account of this love for you."

"Aye, Minya'dar first accepted Gimli because he was my friend. As time went on, they came to be genuine comrades." A faint smile flickered through Legolas' eyes as he recalled the many years he and The Dwarf, as the son of Gloin was known in Valinor, had dwelled with Oropher. "Gimli was a true friend. He left everything he loved behind him and came here with me. To 'look after me' he said. And he did exactly that, standing between me and harm more times than I can count; not just physical harm for there is little of that here. He knew about the twins but never criticised me for letting them use me. He understood, unlike others I will not name. But he is dead and I know he is in Mandos. If I go there, I will be with my friend again."

"Yes he was a rare person, so very loyal to you and someone you trusted beyond question. You loved him dearly, did you not?" Estë encouraged. "I wonder what he thinks of all this turmoil you are in."

Legolas smile grew a little. "He will be positively raving! He will be shouting and calling me 'Wooden-headed Elf' and 'point-eared fool' and 'over-dramatic, emotional elfling'. Gimli would be threatening to thump me over the head with his axe handle to knock some sense back into it."

"So, Gimli does not pine for you to join him there in Mandos?"

Legolas peered at her sharply for a minute and then glanced away out the toward the veranda again. "Nay. He would not wish that. He would tell me not to give up and to fight for what I want. That is what he always said, that I could not expect anything to change if I took no action to make things change."

"That is wise counsel. Yet you did not heed it. Vairë had to intervene before you would approach Erestor."

"Well my fears were justified, it turns out!" Legolas tried to pull his hand away but she would not let him. "It is just like with the twins; he wants to enjoy my body but has no wish for anything more."

The bitterness in the words was enough to make the Vala scowl in discomfort.

"That is yet to be determined. You must recall that he has not permitted himself to think of you as a person. He has viewed you as a sort of icon of wild abandonment, reckless conduct, and rebellion against the accepted social structure of which he is a part and to which he is accustomed. Now that he is learning more about who you are, he may indeed find his heart awakened. Erestor, for all you have learned of him, has many secrets only his father and mother know. There is a tragic history there, and when he shares that with you, then you will understand his reaction to your facade of wanton promiscuity," Estë cautiously explained.

Legolas' interest was immediately focused on his long-time crush and for this the Vala inhaled a deep breath of relief, for she finally felt the grip of despondency loosen its hold upon his heart.

"What happened to him? Did he lose someone he loved? Please tell me!" he urged, clasping her fingers tightly and sitting up fully.

"Nay, surely you know it is wrong for me to do that. Erestor needed my aid once just as you do now; no more can I tell you. I can say that I am not displeased with Vairë's scheming, however, for I believe you may be the one to finally heal that wound in the noble vintner. Would you help him if you could, Legolas?" Estë felt a little guilty using this tactic to distract Legolas from his woes, but she was determined to prevent his ultimate flight into Mandos, a fate clinging too close to the Wood Elf's soul for her comfort.

"Of course I would!" insisted Legolas, somewhat perturbed that she could doubt such a thing. "Erestor means everything to me; tell me what to do."

"Just give him time. Return to the personality he encountered in the cave by the pool and let him come to understand you. Allow him to get to know you, to trust you with more than his physical form. It is true he does not love you as you love him, not yet. If you restrain your impatience and control your despair, he may grow to love you dearly. As difficult as it may be for you to perceive it, he is even more skittish of revealing his heart than you."

"There is hope then? I have not ruined everything?" Legolas wanted to believe her.

"Nay, you have not spoiled things one bit. It was just too much too soon, especially for you. Legolas, you have permitted this growing dispondency to place you in terrible situations. What are you punishing yourself for, young one?"

Legolas startled and his eyes opened wide, for he had not thought of things in exactly this way before. Was he doing that? Taking risks he could avoid and allowing harm to find him? He shook his head, too confused to reason it out. "I do not know," he stumbled over the simple words and looked at her imploringly to supply the answer.

"Ai, I fear it is true. You have been courting death and these excursions into the Severed Realms are getting more and more dangerous with each journey. Legolas, if Erestor had not found you in the cave, you would have either bled to death or succumbed to the poisoning from the lead. Even now, with those dangers removed, you are close to fading from the atrocities to which Ringë subjected you."

"You know of that? Did Erestor tell you?" Legolas was completely mortified and dropped his eyes to his lap.

"No, I have not spoken to Erestor today. Nor I am referring just to what happened in the cave, but to all that took place while you were Ringë's prisoner. It is not difficult to surmise the truth; the evidence is all over your body and your very soul bleeds away its vitality in horror over it. Even the twins have guessed. I think that is why you were so eager to let Erestor take his pleasure of you. You needed to know he still found you attractive after such a violation."

"Aye," Legolas' whispered confirmation was scarcely audible and he kept his sight turned down, struggling not to cry again over it all.

"Then you have been answered fully. If he remains close to you he is bound to find as much to admire in your character as he finds pleasing in your appearance. Now, I will see to it you take a deep and healing sleep, but the decision is ultimately yours whether you live or die. Will you help to complete this work you started with Mithrandir? Will you fight for Erestor's heart and offer the healing only a love so complete as yours can give him? Will you try?" She removed one of her hands from around his and used it to lift up his chin, softly smooth down his tangled hair, and wipe away a few damp tear streaks upon his cheek.

Legolas' chest constricted and his breath hitched, for her words brought a sharp stab of pain to his heart. "I will, but it is so hard to carry on alone. I do not know how long…"

"Be at peace for you are not alone. Have you forgotten your Minya'dar? I shall return you to his care for now and there his love will strengthen you. When next you meet Erestor, this painful experience will not be so dreadful. Now, settle back and relax, for I intend to remove all cares from your mind. You will not be aware, even of your dreams; do I have your permission to do this, little one?"

"Aye," Legolas nodded as he shimmied down and switched over on his side, burrowing deep into the comfort of the luxurious feather mattress with a sigh of satisfaction. He was so very tired. "Will I forget even when I awaken?"

"Nay, but neither will you be tormented. Rest now," she commanded and sang him to sleep. As exhausted as he was in body and soul it did not take long to send him into a deep coma. His respiration slowed and his eyelids drooped almost all the way shut; Legolas lay completely limp and unresponsive on the bed. Estë smiled and bent down to place a kiss on his temple and a gentle pat on his shoulder before exiting the room. As soon as she entered the small parlour everyone jumped up and crowded close, eager to learn of Legolas' status. Elrohir, Dammand, and Erestor had joined the others.

"I have put him at rest, fear not. He will not fade just yet but it was a very near event. There is much he was not even able to speak about and these things will have to be dealt with before he is truly well. Go; Tulus, Olórin, and I shall watch over him." So saying, Estë opened the door to the hallway and bowed them out. No one had the temerity to disobey an order from one of the Valar and so they all filed past her, collecting in the foyer with dissatisfied looks upon their worried faces.

"She did not tell us much," mourned Elrohir.

"She did not tell us anything," corrected Elladan.

"You must not have been listening then," admonished Mairo. "Estë has forestalled his death for now but the remedy is not a permanent cure. Your friend is fading from grief and has been suffering a very long time. Did you not hear her say Legolas has hurts so painful he cannot acknowledge them out loud?"

At his words all the elves took on the hang-dog look of dejected despondency so common in the hopeless. No one knew what to say. At last Dammand spoke.

"Let us go out into the gardens and talk of this. We need to find a way to aid our young friend. Galion, you have known him since his birth; surely the cause of this deep grief is known to you."

Galion grimaced as he followed the others out and he set his jaw in a way Erestor knew well. There would be nothing informative from his steward regarding Legolas. "Aye, there is little about Legolas I do not know, but there are some things he has demanded my sworn oath never to reveal. Despite what he said earlier, I would never betray my Brannonlas." Abruptly the seneschal halted. "You folk go and find a place to settle; I will see what is available in the way of refreshment."

With that Galion left them and not one doubted his displeasure with them one bit. The group wandered into the gardens and found a quiet place among the rose bushes where there was a quaint gazebo with padded benches inside. They shuffled in and sat, silent and brooding, and no one spoke for a long moment.

"Well," said Mairo finally, "I have nothing of value to offer except my fresh observations, which may have revealed what the more regular view of the archer most of you enjoy has hidden. He is definitely not a lover to Ringë; there is real terror in his mind over what he endured under the hands of Ulmo's disciple. And he lost someone dear to him recently, no doubt on this fiasco amid the Severed Realms."

"Dear to him? We know everyone he cares about and no one has passed into Mandos recently," scoffed Elrohir.

"Legolas has a double life, as Mithrandir already explained," interposed Erestor. "The one spoken of must be among the mortals he has befriended across the sea. Foolish elf, he should have learned by now not to hold a mortal close to his heart, for they are destined to perish."

"Legolas is not foolish just open-hearted," Elladan's anger flared and he glared hard at his kinsman. "Mortals have been better companions for him than his own kind, as it turns out. He is right to cherish such friendship, regardless how short-lived."

"Let us not subside into bickering," interrupted Mairo judiciously.

"Quite right," amended Erestor. "I meant not to slight Legolas, it is just that he seems to put himself into situations that generate pain. Now, I do not claim to know him well, yet when I came upon him in the cave his defences were down. He let it slip how very deep this rift with his father has grown; I had no idea his entire family, save for Oropher, shuns him. I wonder if you two can shed any light on that, for I am certain this is one source of his despair." The Lord of Meril Thaifn knew much more than this, of course, after his furtive perusal of Gimli's journal. He fixed his baleful eye upon first Elrohir and then Elladan.

"Why do you focus upon us? Our contribution to his estrangement from Thranduil happened very long ago and of that you know. There has to be something more for the breech to continue into present time," Elladan defended himself and his brother.

"Aye, for one thing Gimli's insinuation into Legolas' life was a huge point of contention. Thranduil accused his son of shaming the family honour by keeping a dwarven lover, reasoning that only for such reasons would Gimli abandon all he knew and loved in Middle-earth to venture here," added Elrohir.

"Do you believe that?" demanded Erestor.

"Nay, we know that is false. Not that Legolas would have been against it, but Gimli does not feel desire for males. In fact, we know of an elven maid who is now in Mandos for grief over loosing Gimli. She was very devoted and remained by his side right until his death. She and Legolas were close and I am sure her loss weighs upon him, too, " replied Elrohir.

"True, but he told me once it comforts him to know they are not parted; at peace together in Nâmo's domain," appended Elladan.

"Then we return to your joint contribution from which you hurriedly diverted our attention," reminded Erestor pointedly.

All eyes remained riveted upon the twins and no one noticed that Galion had failed to return. The brothers squirmed under the intensity of the scrutiny and sighed in unison.

"I suppose we did cause the initial strife between them. It was a great shock to Legolas, for he did not understand his father's sudden aversion. Thranduil really behaves like an oaf most of the time, but Legolas never noticed for he was very young and only knew that his Ada adored him. He cannot get over that his Adar's love is granted only under a very stringent set of conditions," Elrohir began.

"You knew what Thranduil is really like, however, for he has snubbed your family for Ages," commented Dammand drily. "Why did you even go to his Kingdom?"

Mairo's brows went up. "Indeed. Perhaps the motives for visiting your attentions upon Legolas were related more to revenge than simple lust."

The brothers flinched under this censure but did not refute it.

"All right. I suppose everyone here suspects anyway and perhaps the truth will remove some of the unearned disfavour Legolas has been forced to endure over the Ages," Elladan sent Erestor a pointed glare. "Mairo speaks the truth. We plotted to go and upset Thranduil's pristine little world after a most ungracious comment he made about our mother. He is truly insufferable at times and we were incensed. We felt like gathering a small army and becoming kinslayers, that is how ugly his remark was. Thus, when we hatched this other scheme, it seemed to our minds we were giving him an easier punishment than he deserved."

"We had all heard about his youngest child. This ethereal being so blessed by the Valar with beauty and grace as to rival the people of Ingwë. Thranduil was always bragging about Legolas, remarking on his exemplary character, his superb skill as an archer, his bravery in battle, his unparalleled perfection in every attribute one could think to name," Elrohir continued.

"And name them the King did. Unceasingly. Every communication out of Mirkwood was riddled with his boasting of Legolas. Usually while sneering down on others' offspring and relatives," Elladan interposed.

"Meaning you two I suspect," snorted Dammand.

"Aye. We do not mean to excuse ourselves from fault; we realised quickly the damage we had caused. It is just that we were blinded by our wrath at the time," answered Elladan quietly.

"What did Thranduil say that caused you to so easily lose sight of your normal scruples?" enquired Mairo.

Neither twin spoke for a time and plainly they were silently discussing whether they should reveal this. At last they heaved shallow sighs together and nodded in unison. "We will speak, but only because you ask. I do not want any of you to think we believe this justifies our actions. Not anymore at least.

"Thranduil learned about our Naneth's capture and assault by the orcs for Adar had sent notice to all the elven lands explaining why any and all expected actions from Imladris would be put on hold indefinitely, from general correspondence to official diplomatic functions. We heard about the King's response from our messenger when he returned. He told us Thranduil remarked that it was nothing less than one might expect when the Lady of the lands was permitted to traipse about without fitting warriors to escort her. He said he was not surprised the twin Lords were not there to stave off the attack, having heard we were too occupied with dalliances and grand parties rather than concerned with protecting our own," Elrohir explained the cause of their anger succinctly.

"You felt guilty because you were not with Celebrian and Thranduil's thoughtless comments reinforced that notion," Erestor nodded thoughtfully. "I can understand how terrible that must have been. I wish you had come to me or to your father before undertaking to settle a score that never existed in the first place. Thranduil never intended those words to get beyond his borders, I am sure. Our messengers were trained in subterfuge in those days and no doubt the courier was listening in without the King's knowledge."

"He spoke thus nonetheless and we could not find a means to shrug it off. As you stated, we felt badly enough and it was not Thranduil's place to lay blame upon us, even if we accepted it on our own," was Elladan's morose reply. "He made a mockery of our love for Naneth and our sense of duty to her."

"We decided to tarnish his perfect son a little and see how he liked having his offspring's character maligned abroad. Before you say or think it, we did not set out to accomplish the complete debauchery of the sterling warrior prince," stated Elrohir. "Our goal was to be achieved through rumour and innuendo and having Legolas get caught in some compromising situations."

"Once we got there and met him, things changed," concluded Elladan.

TBC.