True Bow (Cuthenin)

Cuthenin (True-Bow)

by F.E.Morton


UnBeta'd

Disclaimer: just borrowing, the characters and settings are Tolkien's,
the words here are mine. No money earned.


thoughts

(elvish translations)


NOTE: I apologise for the lengthy delay in posting to this story again.
I did not walk away from it, I simply could not get these chapters
right. I have struggled to get it to this point and am satisfied with
where this places our hero and his father. Legolas and Thranduil do
have a confrontation over the subject of Faer Hebron. I have tried to
make this realistic based on the following conditions I placed on
Thranduil's character: 1) that he loves his son; 2) he has fallen into
a trap many many people do concerning controversial issues: assuming
they can be judged under black and white guidelines. Where nature is
concerned, things are rarely so cut and dried. 3) He is not stupid.

Thranduil has to come to terms with this situation rather quickly,
after shying away from it for years. I reason this based on the fact
that he is intelligent and must know, having lived as long as he has,
that there are and always will be folks who are attracted to their own
gender. His decision against it is initially a practical one that gets
entwined within the religious creed of the people he governs. These are
a people who have long struggled against evil in their midst, a people
isolated from the rest of the elven realms, a people never exposed to
the Light of Valinor, distrustful of the Valar, and wary of outsiders.
Under these conditions, Pâd-en-Tawar has changed and absorbed the
civil edict into its religious doctrine.

Beyond that, we learn quite a lot about Legolas' birth-mother and
Glorfindel finds out who some of the archer's friends and enemies are.
I clipped the discussion between Galdor and Thranduil down quite a bit,
for initially they argued over the same-sex issue and in retrospect I
felt the King would not permit himself to be drawn off-topic again by
the wily Noldorin Sadron. I may work their talk back into the story
later under a different guise, so if you feel like you do not
understand enough about Thranduil's decision to make the law banning
same-sex unions in the first place, feel free to let me know. Thank you
all for your patience and continued support!

Cheers,


Fred

04/08/2006

Leben-ar-Pae Peth: Mellyn o Cyth? (Part Fifteen:
Friends or
Enemies?)

"An elf of good standing, honourable and true-hearted, highly placed
among the last of the great House of the Golden Flower. You may be
aware that Lord Glorfindel has a sister, Aelluin."

The words were carefully enunciated as if speaking the syllables
presented a hazard, as if the sounds themselves were a poison that
might taint Galdor's lips before dissipating within the ambient snap
and sizzle of the kindled fire. The elder watched to see what effect
they produced upon Thranduil, fearing something in his tone, his pitch,
or his stance would reveal the subterfuge. The King's brow furrowed in
a vague frown while he searched his memory for the named elf and for
several seconds he said nothing. Then his scowl deepened and Galdor was
certain the vague falsehood would be challenged. The Sadron held firm
and waited.

"Nay, I have never heard that name before, I am sure of it."


"I am not entirely surprised by this. Not many have met the Lady
Aelluin, even in Imladris. Few are the number who know of Glorfindel's
sibling; she dislikes the attention her brother's renown invites. Of
his reputation in other matters of his life she likewise prefers to
remain distant."

"I see. Does Aelluin disprove the union between her brother and
Elrond's kinsman?"

"Aye, she considered them an ill-favoured couple and warned Glorfindel
the reasons for the bond were not sufficient to grant him happiness."
Now none of this was known to Galdor personally, for even in Gondolin
he had interacted little with the Balrog Slayer's younger sister, but
in as much as Glorfindel had so stated this he believed the
characterisation accurate. Thus, though fraught with deceit his words
rang true.

Thranduil's expression acquired a slight veneer of irritation atop his
unresolved anxiety over his son's fate. "You imply she does not deplore
intimacy between like partners. It is a serious issue in my realm; her
attitude will find little acceptance here."

"I would understand the reason for such strong opinions on this
subject, if you could explain it. All my life have I adhered to
Pâd-en-Tawar and am Sadron for my country; never has a
restriction of this type been placed on elves before. Why is this
different in Greenwood?" Galdor realised Thranduil would probably
direct him to the Woodland realm's spiritual leader for answers, yet
felt compelled to use any means to avoid the real subject.


"It has nothing to do with Pâd-en-Tawar, though the creed has
incorporated the law fully. I enacted the edict at the end of the
Second Age, deeming our people in danger of extinction, so few males
returned from Dagorlad. For that reason only bonding between ellon and
elleth was sanctioned thereafter."

"I understand the extreme conditions that prompted this decision, but
the population has recovered, has it not? Why persist in enforcing a
decree that alienates one segment of the citizenry from another? It can
make no difference now if a small percentage of the population finds
their gender more appealing than the opposite. Whatever the law may
state it cannot eradicate such a basic component of an individual's
identity." Galdor permitted himself a small bloom of hope, for the King
did not sound as intractable as his son believed. It seemed more a
matter of practicality than a moral doctrine. If Thranduil would repeal
this law then Legolas need not be forced to choose between his family
and his soul-mate.

"Perhaps, but the notion has taken on a life of its own and is now
firmly ensconced in the religious ideas of both Sindar and silvan. Such
unions are counter to the design of Iluvatar and represent a tell-tale
sign of the strength of the Shadow. The Woodland folk live closer to
the evil of the Dark Lord than those in other elven realms. Fear drives
people to seek a cause, a place to lay blame. I am certain you have
heard the same arguments in Lorien, Lord Galdor."

"I have. I would hear your own views rather than a generic apology."

"Do you seek a convert?" Thranduil laughed, a contemptuous sound
lacking mirth. The King eyed his Noldorin guest shrewdly, discerning
why Galdor had pushed them into this discussion "We have gone far from
our topic," he said quietly and moved to take a seat, a silent motion
of his hand bidding Galdor join him, "and that is something I would
wish to understand from you. No more hesitation. Let us speak of my son
and his Faer Hebron. You are obviously reluctant to discuss it and I
would know why."


For a timeless minute the two elven nobles stared hard into each
other's eyes; Thranduil determined to direct the conversation and
Galdor equally determined to divert it. Yet the elder Sadron had
encountered Oropher in past Ages and knew by reputation that his
unyielding temperament had passed to the current ruler of Greenwood.
The heir of Oropher was unlikely to be distracted again.  


"As you wish. I  cannot refute your complaint," Galdor stated
flatly, dismayed but not surprised that there would be no easy
resolution of the problem. He lowered his weary body into the
comfortable chair, sorting out what he would offer by way of answer.
The journey and the fighting had taken their toll and he wished nothing
more than an end to this interrogation and a chance to bathe. "If I
hesitate it is solely out of concern for Legolas. I have known him but
a short time yet I have found much to admire in your youngest child.
With all he has endured I would prevent further hardships. Many
obstacles hinder the pair: culture, age, and spiritual beliefs among
the most daunting."

"So." Thranduil sighed and pressed his fingers to his eyes a moment.
"The bond was only made to reverse the extreme state of Legolas'
health. For this intervention I am eternally in her debt, but I cannot
see that he would appreciate pity nor would I want him to remain in a
loveless union." It was not something unexpected but somehow hearing
the words made the situation real for his son. Legolas
deserves better.

"Nor would I," agreed the Sadron, nodding as he presented Thranduil a
faint smile. "The motivation for the ritual bond, however, is not so
superficial,
being a combination of sympathy, similar personalities, and raw
physical attraction. The elf Legolas has chosen genuinely wishes only
what is best for him, but I am not yet convinced their bond will
endure. If it does not then the separation shall be mutually accepted
and not cause for additional grief."


"I trust you will endeavour to convince me of the truth in your
assessment." Thranduil did not doubt the sincerity of Galdor's
statements, yet every instinct told him the Noldo Lord was holding
back. He wondered why the Sadron was unwilling to expound upon the
lady, for on first hearing the match was not a poor one. What
can be the cause for this reticence? He held Galdor's gaze in
silent challenge.      


"I do not mean to keep you uninformed regarding Legolas' Faer Hebron
and I understand your concern for your son." Galdor sighed and grimaced
as he looked away into the cheerful hearth. "Yet you must know that
Pâd-en-Tawar grants me this privilege in as much as Legolas
himself agreed to the Guardianship. He has asked that I remain
conservative in what I say of his affianced mate."

"What say you? Legolas does not want me involved?" Thranduil could not
hide the note of remorse and sadness in his voice. Somewhere in the
recesses of his heart, so deeply felt that he could not even admit the
notion was there, he had hoped that with Calarlim gone Legolas would
turn to him for guidance.

"Permit me to be frank, Lord Thranduil, though we are not close
acquaintances." Galdor shifted, sitting forward to the edge of the
chair. Perceiving he had found a vulnerable spot in the forbidding
monarch's facade, he held the King's eyes and diligently aimed for it.
"Legolas dreads earning your disfavour and thinks his choice for Faer
Hebron will not meet your standards. He wishes only to be a source of
pride for you and your House. I could tell you all I know of Aelluin
and still not satisfy the doubts and suspicions that crowd your vision.
This is no more than I would expect, for we are strangers. Therefore,
go and speak with your son of these matters. Yet listen attentively to
his answers and let your heart be your counsellor."


Involuntarily, Thranduil drew a sharp breath and gripped the arms of
the chair tightly so intense was the expression emanating from the
Noldorin elder's dark eyes. A bright spark of fear, an uneasy flash of
memory ran through the ruler's mind, for once before he had been put
off by his son's Guardian over the very same topic. Then as now, a
nagging doubt surfaced briefly, taunting the worried father with its
terrible implications. Hastily Thranduil squelched this alarming idea,
assuring himself that he was imagining things and willing himself not
to permit guilt to taint his perceptions of his youngest child. Then
all the agitation left him and he seemed to deflate, slouching down in
his seat as he averted his gaze.

"There is great divergence among the followers of your faith, Sadron,
for in Greenwood one who is not an initiate may not discuss these
issues with one who is." Thranduil's bitter frustration in dealing with
such a restriction over the course of Legolas' life was unmistakable.
"Legolas has been taught to hold his tongue and has ever done so, even
when I could see he wished to reveal his mind."


"Mayhap so, yet this is not a rule specific to your kingdom. It is not
one that is strictly enforced in Mithlond, however, and I would never
advise an
elf regarding his or her Faer Hebron without discussing it with family,
especially the parents. I am his Tirn'wador now and he will find my
guidance more lenient, especially since he is fully grown and there is
only this one issue to resolve before my jurisdiction expires. Legolas
mentioned that you did not take part in his first choosing but believes
you demurred for other reasons."

"What do you mean?" Thranduil looked up warily.

"No doubt it was Calarlim who put the thought in his mind, although he
may have heard it spoken of among his peers also. He told me he was
sent away because you did not think any elleth here would consider him
suitable to wed."


Galdor watched as Thranduil's eyes filled with anger, all the centuries
of confounded plans and defrayed goals revealed in glaring gravity. If
he and Calarlim had ever worked together in the raising of Legolas, it
must have been a tenuous truce at best. The heat of ire faded quickly,
however, replaced by a deep sorrow touched by something the wise
Guardian recognised as guilty shame. Galdor had but a second to observe
it, however, for Thranduil quickly trained his vision into the dancing
flames. It is as Legolas believes; the father merely wishes
his son did not know this.

"Why then would he desire my opinion now?" murmured the distraught
father. "If he thinks I hold him so lowly in my thoughts, what use can
he have for my input? Were it me, I would refuse to speak of these
things as well, for it would sorely hurt my soul to believe my Adar
disparaged me so."

"However low he feels himself placed within your thoughts, Legolas does
not resent you for it but considers the assessment must be valid." The
Sadron gave the mental equivalent of a deep inhalation, for this was
the break-through he had hoped to achieve. Estë, guide my
tongue that my words may open his heart. "Surely the
conditions of his conception were made plain to him long ago. Given the
culture among the silvans, I would be surprised were he to have any
other self-perception. He is well aware that some hold his very
existence to be an affront and that, as his progenitor, this ill-favour
extends to you. Your son does not blame you for his circumstances,
rather he holds you in the very highest esteem. Nothing more does he
wish
than to feel he has earned your respect.


"Go to him, Thranduil, and make him see this is not something he must
acquire by bold deeds or eloquent words. Show him that you find him
worthy, not because he conducts himself honourably and exhibits courage
on the battlefield. Let him know that you understand his actions spring
from his innate character, and that this core of his heart and soul is
exemplary in your summation. This alone he needs from you; all else can
be endured if he believes this one thing: his father accepts him
unconditionally."


Thranduil stared at the ancient elf, amazed to find himself not only
listening but hungrily devouring his insights. With a powerful surge of
his heart he realised why: the Sadron's wisdom and straight-forward
speech reminded him keenly of Oropher. How this foreign elf could so
succinctly outline the complex emotions that lay between him and his
youngest child, Thranduil could not fathom. Suddenly enlightenment
blossomed and he allowed a sheepish smile to grace his lips, for of
course the situation and its accompanying awkwardness between father
and son were not unique.

I only think it so because I am in
the centre of it. Who knows how many Galdor has similarly counselled
over the Ages? And that he found reassuring, for his story
was no longer a shocking revelation marking the decay of his morals but
something the elder Sadron had probably heard innumerable times before.

"Le hanteän, Lord Galdor. Long it has been since I confided in
anyone on so personal a matter; indeed, I have not since Lhoss' and I
parted. I did not understand how greatly I required it." Accepting the
silent nod of his guest in reply and saying nothing more, the King set
his mouth in grim determination, rose, and strode quickly from the
room.  

While Galdor endured this strange inquisition turned confession, the
Balrog Slayer had an encounter of his own.  

In Thranduil's private study, Glorfindel rose to his feet the instant
after Galdor stood and watched the King escort the Sadron away. Before
the door closed he turned to Galion, still seated on the sofa sipping
ruby wine from a crystal goblet. The steward did not seem in any hurry
to leave the comfort of the King's suite and the Vanya warrior stared
coldly into the openly disdainful visage. Something about this Elf just
set Glorfindel's nerves on edge and he was overwhelmed with a strong
desire to knock the smug expression right back into the haughty
advisor's wine-stained teeth.

"Oh, eager to depart?" Galion finally queried, giving Glorfindel a
thorough once over with his mocking hazel gaze. "You do seem weary and
begrimed; perhaps a bath and a short respite would renew your
disposition." The advisor stood and ambled toward the exit, still
carrying his glass and Thranduil's decanter, which he tucked under his
arm in order to open the door. "Come along, I will direct you to your
rooms. They are well situated and not too difficult to locate, however
the fortress is something of a maze. Mark well the route for I am not
assigned as your personal valet."

"Thank you for your courtesy," Glorfindel answered tersely, thinking he
would sooner be lost in the caverns a week than suffer Galion for
guidance. In the interest of diplomacy, he held his tongue and
followed, noting each intersection, turning, and stairway used. Yet the
journey was indeed circuitous and the Vanya warrior had the distinct
impression it was purposefully so. After some minutes of silent walking
they stopped before an ornate set of double doors and with a frown
Glorfindel recognised the open entry to the King's suite just a short
ways ahead. "You have led us in a loop, why?" he demanded, not at all
amused by the ridiculous antic.

"Ah, clever of you to notice that, Glorfindel, so observant. Forgive my
little ruse, the King does not ordinarily like to have strangers so
well acquainted with the layout of his palace. This is not your suite,
however, but my apartment." Galion was chuckling through his words, not
at all displeased that he had been caught at his game, and opened the
doors. He proceeded inside but Glorfindel did not follow and thus
presently the supercilious Elf came back to the threshold and leaned
out, peering at the Balrog Slayer in puzzlement. "Are you awaiting a
formal invitation? Do come in." His smile was more a challenge than a
genial expression of welcome.

Not being one to run from a confrontation, and somewhat curious as to
the advisor's intent, Glorfindel gave a short nod and crossed into the
room. His brows lifted in surprise for the parlour was much more
lavishly appointed than was the King's private study.

Galion had a fondness for deep thick carpets and so many covered the
floor that no hint of the underlying rock could be detected. The walls
were likewise decorated with heavy tapestries and paintings and where
the stone was visible between these hangings it was lavishly carved
with ornate knot-work. The light in the place was nearly too bright to
bear for there were three gilded chandeliers suspended from the high
ceiling and golden wall sconces evenly placed around the room. The
hearth was huge and of course alight, the heat from it stifling despite
the height of the grand space. Two alcoves led away from this room and
from both more garishly flickering lamplight spilled.


Galion sauntered over to the fireplace and sank with an appreciative
sigh into a leather armchair that was positively decadent in its softly
overt comfort. "Please join me, Glorfindel." With the goblet he
gestured to the matching seat opposite as he set the wine decanter on
the low table in-between.

Glorfindel suppressed a small chuckle, thinking he had determined the
advisor's plans, and refrained from smirking. The sly Sindarin snoop
was out of his league if he hoped to pry any confidential information
from Elrond's Master of the Guard. With a slight shake of his head, the
Balrog Slayer declined Galion's
silent offer of more wine and sat.
The plush padding was indeed pleasant but he did not permit himself to
relax too much, keeping a calculating eye on his host. Several seconds
of quiet proceeded as it seemed neither wished to be the first to
speak. Finally Glorfindel decided to advance the game to the next round
and see what might transpire. "Are Galdor's quarters close by? I may
wish to speak with him ere retiring for the evening."

"Your friend's rooms are not far from here and across the hallway from
you own. No doubt you wish to discuss his chat with Thranduil?" Galion
asked without a hint of guile.

"Yes, I admit to curiosity over the details of their conversation,"
Glorfindel provided a nonchalant uplift of the shoulders to accompany
the words.

Galion's expression bespoke a hint of displeasure. "They will talk of
Legolas, naturally, yet I wonder why you might find the woes of a young
Woodland archer interesting."


Glorfindel almost smirked; Thranduil's Chief Advisor was no match for
Elrond's. It was almost too easy to deflect these meagre efforts to
bait him. "I am Cuthenin's friend. I do not find it strange to wonder
over his fate."


"What an unlikely comrade for one of your renown." Now the butler
imbued this sentence with an oily coat of suggestive implication as he
arched a brow above a lopsided leer.

The Balrog Slayer remained unpurturbed. "Why so? You know little of
Cuthenin to say this. He is an honourable warrior and has done well in
decimating an orcish troupe bent on waylaying travellers on the North
Road out of Imladris. I am pleased to have his friendship." Finally
Glorfindel decided he had been on the defensive long enough and
purposed to do a bit of prying himself. "And where is Cuthenin's
apartment, for I would like to thank him again for his skilful
deployment of that bow during the most recent battle."

"You would thank him tonight, privately, in his rooms?" Galion gave a
derisive snort. He surveyed Glorfindel speculatively from over the rim
of his goblet.

"Is he not permitted guests in his quarters?" Glorfindel bristled with
just the right level indignation at the seneschal's insinuation of
impropriety.  He was not unprepared for the steward's suspicions
as Thranduil's spies were not a new addition to Imladris' court life.
Surely word of his dealings with Erestor would have been reported long
ago. And if not that, Rumil's stay in Elrond's realm will have
been recounted by Athedreinyn to Lorien. No matter what
Galion thought likely, he had no proof of any of Glorfindel's
encounters. Still, all his instincts cautioned the veteran warrior to
be wary. "Is Cuthenin a warrior or a child?"


"He is Thranduil's son," the note of warning in the steward's voice was
unmistakable.

"This I know. I find it difficult to imagine that the King prevents his
youngest from receiving visitors. Legolas is no elfling; he was
entrusted with a mission to foreign lands where he would represent his
people among strangers."

"His Tirn'wathel was with him."

"As his Tirn'wador is now. Tell me, are you among the followers of
Pâd-en-Tawar? I am not and admit my ignorance of its rules. Is
there some proscription against friendship inherent to the creed?"

Galion grimaced and sighed briefly, as if the game was now
unsatisfactory, vaguely gesturing with his wineglass. "It matters not;
Legolas does not have rooms here."

That was not what Glorfindel expected and he did not do well in hiding
it. "Why is that? Where does he stay, then?"

"He lives where he has always dwelt, in a talan some small distance
into the trees on the western side of the grounds. As to why, perhaps
it is not a subject I should broach with outlanders." Galion drained
his glass and set it down sharply on the table, turning his gaze away
to glare into the firelight.

"If you are referring to the rumours concerning his naneth's status
then
no more need be said," Glorfindel growled irritably, "yet it is strange
for such a prejudice to continue after the child has been accepted by
his father."

"Thranduil's acceptance as you call it is not universally approved
among
the people here." Galion's piercing hazel eyes jabbed at Glorfindel's
outspoken criticism. "Our folk place higher standards on morality than
do some other elven realms. The King has been my friend for nearly two
Ages yet I cannot condone his reprehensible disregard of a sacred bond.
Perhaps you did not know that his wife-mate is a cousin of mine. The
shameful stain he brought upon my family and the noble House of Oropher
has yet to fade. That his disgraceful conduct is discussed beyond the
borders of the Greenwood is mortifying; his actions cast our people as
low as mortal men. As for the mother, she will dwell long in Mandos
atoning for such a selfish act."   

The Balrog Slayer stared, surprised by this acrimonious outpouring and
speechless for some moments after its completion. His first thought was
that he was glad Legolas did not dwell within the fortress, enduring
this pompous Elf's self-righteous condemnation on a regular basis. His
second denounced Thranduil.  Refusing Legolas a place in his home,
allowing public opinion to govern his interactions with a child of his
body, such was unconscionable in the Vanya's mind and he came close to
saying so. With effort he refrained from comment and merely glared into
the resolute disfavour marring the advisor's aristocratic visage.


"I am aware the Elves of Imladris would not share this view," Galion
added in a slightly less acidic tone. "We would not have been so
scandalised had the elleth not chosen to conceive. One can overlook
much when grief is involved, and even Thranduil's sons eventually came
to tolerate the new role Lhoss (Whisper) played in their father's life."

"Lhoss? Is that the name of Cuthenin's naneth?" Glorfindel could not
help his curiosity over this topic, for Legolas had said nothing about
his mother.

"It is." Galion paused and studied his guest's face intently for
several seconds, presenting the stern countenance of an Elf engaged in
serious internal debate. If he was hoping the silence would prompt
Glorfindel into speech, as it had before, he was disappointed. At
length he gave a nearly non-existent shrug and continued. "I will
satisfy your obvious inquisitiveness on this topic if you agree to do
the same for me afterward."

"What is it you would know?" Glorfindel's spine stiffened involuntarily
just a minute amount but otherwise he kept his discomfort over the
bargain in check.

"I will only reveal that after we have satisfied your interest. Do you
agree?"


"Nay; I find the terms unfair. After all, I could simply ask Legolas
about Lhoss."


Galion's face dissolved into an expression of smirky, contemptuous
self-assurance and he chuckled unpleasantly, low in his throat. "I
suppose you could. Legolas, however, will not say one single thing
about her. He will not even speak her name. No matter what you ask or
what you say, he will answer not. This lesson he learned when he was
very young and he is unlikely to forget it."

The Balrog Slayer did not like the implications this dire statement
raised within his thoughts. He wanted very much to leave this
intolerable Elf and find Cuthenin, yet he had no idea where to look. He
longed to convince Legolas that nothing need be kept hidden inside any
longer, now that Glorfindel was part of his life. He stared in stricken
aversion at Thranduil's advisor, for his demeanour divulged an
inordinately strong reaction to a cousin's replacement by a paramour.
Glorfindel was left wondering how Galion could have come to detest
Legolas so. "What is this about?" he demanded abruptly.

The steward's brows arched in bewilderment. "An interesting question,
to be sure, with many answers. At present we are negotiating an
exchange of information. You want to know of Legolas' antecedents while
I have a query or two of my own."

"Regarding Legolas' stay in Imladris?"

"Nay, well, in a sense but not exactly that. Come now, I weary of this
little contest. Either we will speak together or sit and enjoy the rest
of this fine vintage in companionable quietude, Glorfindel. I leave the
choice to you."


Glorfindel pondered his options. On the one hand, he felt strongly that
he should go to Legolas and ask of these things. Yet, mayhap it was
insensitive to bring it up, considering Calarlim's recent demise. Given
the deep dread Cuthenin revealed over holding his father's House up to
ridicule or scorn, would it be indelicate to speak of the King's
consort at all? Perhaps he should not mention any of these things,
letting Legolas decide when or even if the subject should be addressed.
Still, in spite of himself Glorfindel wanted to know about Lhoss,
feeling he could not succour Cuthenin properly if he did not understand
the basis for the archer's mindset. Ultimately his curiosity won out.
"Tell me of Lhoss and I will resolve your questions so long as they do
not require me to betray my Lord or break a pledge of confidence."


"Excellent! We have an accord, then." Galion's smile was victoriously
knowing and made the Balrog Slayer shift slightly in his chair. He gave
a short nod in reply and the steward began the tale.

"Lhoss was a fixture in our lives since the day Oropher led his people
under the eaves of the forest. Thranduil's law-sister was due to birth
her second child and the journey had taxed her strength, causing an
early delivery. Lhoss volunteered to be her aide, making certain she
did not strain herself and helping to watch over the fragile babe. Her
knowledge of herb-lore and her willingness to help was appreciated by
the healers and the royal family alike. She became the child's
caretaker and gradually took on all the younglings in Oropher's House.
When the mighty underground fortress was completed, she was given an
apartment of her own.

"Becoming the best of friends to Thranduil's wife, Lhoss was there for
the birth of both their sons, and for the grandchildren and
great-grandchildren that followed. The silvan elleth was nearly as
close as a blood relative, so greatly did we trust and depend on her.
More than a maid or servant or even a nanny, Lhoss was an emissary to
her people, enabling the silvans to learn and accept many of the
Sindarin ways. Likewise, through her the Sindarin folk learned the
customs of the forest dwellers and adapted as best they could to this
more basic lifestyle. We never suspected in those days what tragedy she
would inflict upon us. Within a year of my cousin's death she had
become the King's mistress."

Glorfindel was heartsick to hear Legolas' creation so harshly termed
and wondered how it must have been to grow up under such a stigma. "I
am sorry for your family's grief. The House of Oropher has endured
great loss and hardship also. Yet Cuthenin is nothing but a credit to
both his silvan and Sindarin heritage. Mayhap new life is a sign of new
hope for the Greenwood and her people."


"I am not so certain that is so. Already six immortal lives have ended
because he was born."

"There were but five all told and while no life lost is a small thing,
still in the Woodland realm the Darkening has claimed uncounted others
under the leadership of experienced warriors many Ages older than
Cuthenin."


"I include Lhoss herself in the count."

Glorfindel was taken aback and physically reacted, his stomach giving a
squeamish roll to hear the death of his mother laid at Legolas' feet.
Do others here feel this way? The concept was so
awful his mind refused to believe Galion was serious and he could do
nothing but shake his head and peer in silence at the steward.

Galion, pleased by this lack of a verbal response, frowned to cover it
and continued his thoughts. "Legolas is a capable enough archer, that I
do not contest, but not up to the challenge of leadership. It was a
mistake for Thranduil to insist on having him trained for such
responsibilities."


"Nay, it is the burden of anyone in command to face the loss of
soldiers when the enemy is engaged. I questioned him closely about the
incidents; Cuthenin did all that was reasonable in the situations
faced. He is not the cause for the Orc attacks that stole those lives.
And he is wholly innocent of his naneth's fate."

"Ah, but that is just where many would disagree with you. Within
Pâd-en-Tawar what Lhoss did was a grievous sin, for it reduced
the precious gift of renewing life to nothing more than a greedy
personal want fulfilled. She did not have Thranduil's consent to
produce a child with his seed. It was beyond irresponsible; it
signified the taint of the Shadow. A child created thus is considered
marked by evil and shunned. Even her own people tried to convince her
to leave for Eldamar, taking her shame and disgrace with her."


"That cannot be right," Glorfindel denied emphatically. "I witnessed
the silvan warriors' reaction to Cuthenin's return. They were agitated
over the deaths but not repulsed by his presence."

"Aye, there has been quite a buzz over Úcaul Annaur. The silvans
will forgive much for that action and because of the weight of his
grief upon Calarlim's death. They will see it as a sort of balance
against the troubles Cuthenin brought them. Of course, Igeredir was
there also and that makes all the difference. He and Inarthan have
become very attached to their unexpected sibling and do not allow
anyone to accost or accuse Cuthenin while he is in their presence.
Their children and grandchildren are protective also, for the most
part, and so Cuthenin is shielded from the more unpleasant opinions of
the majority."

"Nay, you are mistaken. You were not there to see him fighting against
Greenwood's foes; you underestimate the respect his skill has earned
him among the warriors. Why should he be made to bear the enmity of his
people when he is guiltless of any wrong? Whatever errors his parents
may have made, Cuthenin is making his own place in the world and it is
not one of dishonour," Glorfindel insisted.


Galion shrugged, "Perhaps, yet Greenwood will never be a comfortable
haven for him."

Silence fell between them as each considered the conversation.
Glorfindel could not help a slight uplift of spirit, for if the
Woodland Realm was less than warm toward Legolas then mayhap leaving it
permanently would not be so great a hardship for the archer. In light
of Thranduil's prohibition of a union such as theirs, this was no
slight concern.


As for Galion, he needed a moment to collect himself before beginning
his inquiries. In fact, he needed more than time; he needed another
serving of the pleasing wine and helped himself. A long swallow
preceded his first question.

"I wonder if you will hold to our bargain," he began softly to himself,
watching guardedly as Glorfindel's eyes narrowed in suspicion. With a
deep breath Galion came right to the point. "Do you intend to wait out
the full year before claiming your reward for saving Legolas?"

Glorfindel mastered his startlement over this bold interrogative
quickly yet there could be no doubt he had failed to hide it entirely.
He remained still as he scrutinised the advisor's cool, triumphant
expression. Galion had it all figured out and for that Glorfindel gave
the steward his grudging admiration. Not so glib of tongue as
Erestor but no dullard either. Now was not the time to break
faith with Cuthenin, however. There was no proof to back the
seneschal's beliefs and the Balrog Slayer had no intention of supplying
any. A rash reply would point too plainly to their hidden soul-bond,
revealing the depth of his feeling to this odious seneschal. He crossed
his arms firmly over his chest and lifted his brows. "You will have to
be specific; I will not guess at your meaning."


"Ah, such admirable scruples! I admit to surprise, for your reputation
in such personal areas does not support such a strong character."

"Have a care, seneschal, for I am not wont to tolerate such bald
insults placidly." Glorfindel was on his feet, tight fists terminating
arms stiffly bent at waist level, face etched in stony fury.


Galion rose also and gave a gloating half bow. "Quite right; my
apologies. I only hoped to inform you that the truth is already out.
This attempt at secrecy is entirely unnecessary and, if I might say,
just a bit ludicrous."

"You will need to state this truth plainly before I may concur or
dispute with you."

"Must I? Come now, I see no need to be crude…"


"Yet your words belie you."

"Indeed! My words divulge what my eye perceives. Let me present it from
another view-point: mayhap I can help to preserve this carefully
guarded secret. I am fond of Legolas, have always been so. It is not my
wish to see him subjected to the shame of public banishment. Nor would
I wish him to fade from grief, as he surely must if his unusual
predisposition causes his father's House to be overthrown."


Glorfindel's fingers itched to wrap themselves around the
chestnut-haired ellon's throat and throttle the life from his vile
heart. With great effort he remained silent, permitting his fearsome
glower to transmit his smouldering wrath.

"I do know how to hold my tongue, you see, and am more than willing to
do so provided some minor concessions are granted."

Still the Balrog Slayer stood motionless and no sound passed his lips,
yet his menace grew apace with each passing instant, the potential for
disaster increasing accordingly. He reminded himself that Galion had
only hearsay and supposition regarding his lifestyle. Yet
Legolas has lived under his scrutiny all his life. I had no difficulty
discerning Cuthenin's interest in me; the seneschal has no doubt
observed tell-tale signs in abundance over the course of
years. Would the advisor reveal these indications to
Thranduil? Would not the King's fall from power result in Galion's loss
of prestige and position also? He is bluffing,

Glorfindel visibly relaxed and smiled, a vicious twist of his lips that
bespoke disgust rather than agreement.

Galion grimaced, just a slight flexure of the muscles across his
forehead and a faint compression of his lips. Realising the direction
the warrior's thoughts must have taken, he regrouped, wordlessly
berating himself for being too obvious too soon. Subtly was the key in
cracking the Vanya's reserve, but that tactic was lost to him now. He
would have to take a lower road.


"Yet there are others not so benevolent as I. One or two among the
Council of Lords suspect Cuthenin's interest in males. They have long
held resentment against Oropher's House for the massacre of kith and
kin at Dagorlad. Such influential leaders would be most grateful for
any information that aided their cause. Of course, Thranduil would be
certain to defend his son. No doubt he would find any betrayal by his
advisors a grievous wound, yet it is often so with the selfish,
privileged class. Never once has he thought to apologise for the
ignominy his dealings with Lhoss tendered to his wife's House.

"I am sure many folk in Imladris might not be troubled if Oropher's
line was removed from authority, given the numbers of their kin lost
due to his incompetence at the siege of Barad Dur. As for you,
what can it matter to you who rules Greenwood? Yet Legolas would
certainly be devastated were such to come about because of his twisted
cravings. As Faer Hebron, you cannot help but strive to prevent that. I
am sure an amicable settlement can be reached between us to ensure he
never has to confront such a terrible burden of guilt and grief."

Glorfindel stared at the self-serving Elf before him, completely
overwhelmed with loathing for such a creature, and fought the urge to
spit in his face. The threat to betray the King he had served for two
Ages fell from Galion's loquacious lips as if he were reporting a
desire to have pheasant for dinner instead of venison. He wondered if
Thranduil had any suspicions that his closest advisor was so
duplicitous and whether he would be likely to believe it should an
outlander seek to reveal the treasonous plotting. Probably
not, on either count.


He concluded that the seneschal was as cold-blooded and unfeeling a
creature as any Orc might be and understood better Calarlim's
subterfuge regarding the phantom mate for Legolas. No matter the source
of Galion's foul inducement, what he said of Legolas was true; the
young warrior would be destroyed if his personal needs became the
catalyst for the unseating of his father's House. With severe disgust
the Balrog Slayer decided he must come to terms with the soul-less
steward. Only one thing remained to be disclosed: the price for
Galion's co-operation.

"What do you seek in exchange for silence regarding these
unsubstantiated rumours concerning his
son's preference for a mate?"


Galion inhaled and held the breath a second or two, exhaling it
gradually as he sought to centre himself. He sported a chilling smile
as he bent to retrieve his goblet and the decanter, pouring as he
spoke, his eyes averted as he tended the task with hands that seemed to
tremble. "Legolas' virginity."

For a split second Glorfindel could only gape in horrified and
disbelieving outrage, unable even to form a coherent thought on the
nature of the extortion, and then his rage boiled over. He lashed out
with his right fist, landing a powerful blow upon the seneschal's jaw
that sent the Elf reeling backwards into the chair behind him, which
overturned and deposited the chestnut-haired betrayer on the floor. The
decanter thumped against the carpets and splashed its blood-red
contents everywhere while the wineglass remained inexplicably
entrenched in Galion's fingers. The steward lay stunned for a second
then let loose a sharp cry as Glorfindel advanced a step and bent low,
preparing to snatch up his prey and pound him senseless.

"Baw! Daro! Far!" (No! Stop! Enough!) Galion called weakly,
ineffectually throwing the glass at his nemesis and raising a hand to
fend off the attack. Yet it was not this pathetic attempt at
self-defence which halted his opponent.

Glorfindel stared in bewilderment at the haughty Elf crumpled on the
rug, for Galion was laughing. The veteran warrior straightened and
watched, wondering if perhaps the seneschal was in fact mad and all of
their converse had been due to some kind of strange mental deficiency.


"Oh, that smarts terribly, Glorfindel. But you will do; you will do."
Galion delicately pressed his fingers against the swelling contusion.
"You have loosened two of my molars." He gazed up, amused in spite of
his painful bruise, eyes alight with something like triumph. The
advisor held out his hand. "Your assistance, if you please?" he said
and chuckled again at the confusion filtering through the Balrog
Slayer's blue eyes even as he wordlessly complied. They stood facing
one another before the cheerful fire. At last Galion saw the subtle
shift in colour from clear azure to steely grey as the Balrog Slayer's
patience eroded. He raised both hands before him in supplication and
took a step away. "Permit me to explain before you start hitting me
again."

Glorfindel considered whether he should allow any more words to arise
form the irritating ellon's mouth for he was not sure he could control
his ire should further obscene announcements be uttered. He folded his
arms over his chest, deciding he wished to know the motivation for the
seneschal's bizarre behaviour, and nodded. "I will hear you but if
anything more is said of abusing Legolas expect to find yourself on the
ground again."


"Those are fair terms," Galion agreed. "I had to determine your reasons
for agreeing to become Legolas' Faer Hebron. What I said is true; I am
quite fond of Cuthenin, just not in the way I made you believe. I was
his tutor, you see, when he first came under Thranduil's authority for
his education at age 30. I have known of his desires even before he
understood them himself. Calarlim and I worked hand in hand to prevent
him from coming to harm because of it.

"Had you agreed to this despicable plot I am not sure how I would have
dealt with you. Probably informed Galdor and let him break it to
Legolas. You have shown your character to be quite suitable, I am
pleased to say. Legolas will do well to keep you, yet the job of
convincing him to depart Greenwood will not be easy. He takes his
duties here very seriously."

Glorfindel was astounded. "I know not if I can believe you, so greatly
has your story changed. Why did Legolas fail to reveal your part in
Calarlim's scheme?"


"He knows nothing of it. He is very suspicious of my interest in his
activities, though. He is aware that I inquire after his reports once
his captain has read them over and that I watch everyone who comes and
goes at his abode. In fact, he worries that I am attracted to him
though Calarlim tried to convince him this is false. That is what gave
me the idea for this little farce."

"Is it farce?" demanded Glorfindel, his hands curling into fists anew
as his posture once more presented a threatening stance.

"Peace! My mate is in Námo's Keeping but is female, as is any
companionship I seek while awaiting my reunion with her. This you can
verify independently by asking any of the stronghold staff you meet, or
Thranduil himself."


"And what of the King? Does he share this knowledge of Cuthenin's
desires?" Glorfindel felt irritated to be so deceived, forgetting he
was fully prepared to engage in mendacity for the very same cause:
protecting Legolas.

"Nay," Galion sighed heavily. "We will speak more of this anon, yet I
wish to include Legolas' Tirn'wador. I shall guide you to his quarters."


So saying the new confederates left the plush apartment and ventured
back into the stone corridor to seek the counsel of Galdor, noble Lord
of the House of the Tree, Sadron to the byr of Mithlond, and Cuthenin's
Guardian. As they began their short journey, the King was well into his.

TBC