The Price of Pride

Elvish translations

Ion nín – my son
Goheno nín – forgive me
Pen-neth – young one


Chapter 18

I gathered my pack, changed back into travel clothes, and headed for the stables. There was no reason to drag out my departure. My father had made his position clear and I was in no mood to try to persuade him to change his mind. I waved the servants away when they came to help. I did not want any of them to suffer my father’s wrath for aiding me. I assured the head groom that I would send the horse back when I reached Lórien.

I had just mounted and was about to leave when my father came out of the hall. “Legolas,” he called, “what are you doing?”

“You made yourself very clear when we spoke earlier. I see no reason to delay. I will be in Lórien should you reconsider your decision to send me away.”

“Send you away?” He looked confused.

“You told me to leave.”

“I wanted you to leave my rooms before I said something I regretted. I did not mean for you to leave permanently. Come inside, ion nín. Let us discuhis.his.”

“I think we discussed it more than enough earlier.” I was not ready to let go of my anger and hurt at his cruel words.

“Legolas, ion nín. You of all people know my temper. Please, come inside and listen to me now that I have calmed down. If you still want to leave after that, I will not stop you.”

I did not really want to leave my home so I relented, dismounting and handing my horse back to the groom. I would listen, as my father requested, but he was going to have to make amends or I would leave.

I followed him back inside.

“Goheno nín, Legolas. I spoke in anger,” he saidtly tly when we were once again in the privacy of his chambers.

“Why?” I asked.

I could see my father hesitate. “Tell me the truth. Tell me why I should accept your apologies when you called me a fool, a weakling, useless. If that is what you think of me, why should I stay?”

“I was scared, pen-neth. I almost lost you this winter, without even realizing Elr Elrond’s letter shocked me. You had said nothing of your feelings for Arwen, nothing of what you must have suffered alone. I was angry that you would shut me out, you who used to tell me everything. And I was scared that if you returned to your duties, I would lose you, forever this time. I should have waited until I calmed down to call for you, but I wanted you to deny the situation, deny that I had been so blind as to miss your state. You have loved her for fifty years and I never guessed. What does that say about me?”

“It says only that I have learned to hide my thoughts, Ada. I cannot have Arwen, except as an occasional lover. I know that and I accepted it, no matter how much I might wish otherwise. There was no reason to speak of it.”

“No reason to speak of love.” My father’s voice was thoughtful now. “Did I teach you no better than that? Love should be celebrated, especially here where we face so much darkness. Please, ion, tell me of her.”

This was the father I had hoped to come home to, the one who would comfort and love me, who would share my suffering even if he could not stop it. I poured out the whole story, telling him of meeting Arwen again, of falling in love with her. I told him of that first kiss by the waterfall. He laughed with me at the joy of that memory, held me tightly when I told him of my conversation with Elrond. I glossed over the details of the night of Arwen’s Cuivië. Those were private, but I told him of the happiness I found with her. I spoke of missing her when I returned to Mirkwood and how my condition had worsened when I reached Rivendell to find her absent. He was amazed when I described how she trained beside me with Glorfindel.

“I think perhaps I misjudged your Lady when we spoke before,” my father said when I had finished my tale. “I apologize.”

“Accepted.”

“Are you sure you have made the right decision about her, pen-neth? Her brothers and Elrond’s advisors seem to think that she might return your love.”

“What choice do I have, Ada? She is forbidden to me. If I speak of my feelings and she accepts them, we will be banished. I cannot ask that of her. Then there is Elrond’s vision, which Galadriel shares.”

“I cannot speak for their visions, but I will tell you this. When you decide to claim your Lady, bring her here to Mirkwood. Lórien and Imladris may not welcome you, but Mirkwood will always be your home and anyone you love will be welcome here.”

“You would violate Elvish law?”

“What good is being King if I cannot arrange things to suit myself? The decision is yours, but I will support you, no matter what decision you make.”

“What about my duties? Will you allow me to return to them? I could not stand being confined here, unable to help defend our home.”

“You told me you trained with Glorfindel while you were in Imladris. Was he satisfied with your progress?”

“He seemed to be. Certainly, he had to work harder to defeat me by the time I left.”

“I will leave that decision up to you. Just remember that losing you would likely kill me. Be even more careful than you used to be if you return to your duties.”

“I will be careful, Ada, but it would feel wrong not to serve. Lord Elrond told me that if I was ever too wounded to travel, you should send for Arwen. Did he tell you that as well?”

“N’uma, but then, Elrond and I have not been on friendly terms for a very long time. Still, if he made the offer to you, he will honor it. Let us hope it never comes to that.”

“Let us hope,” I repeated.

And just like thharmharmony was restored between us. I had what I had wanted from my father for fifty years – a confidante and friend. He knew of my feelings and accepted them now that the shock had worn off.

We fell into a pattern that lasted for two millennia. My father would watch me, as Erestor and Glorfindel watched Arwen. When they saw one of us beginning to suffer from our separation, they would arrange a reason for me to visit wherever Arwen was at the time. We would spend a few weeks or months together, depending on how much time my father could spare me. I would return home, refreshed, and my father would ask about her, calling her his daughter-in-law, and wanting to know when I would bring her to visit.

My answer was always the same. “Perhaps next time.” I never asked Arwen to accompany me to Mirkwood. I did not want her to see my home infested by the darkness. If we ever succeeded in driving back the Shadow from Dol Guldur, I would bring her then, if she wanted to come.

We were at an impasse, in many ways, Arwen and I. We never spoke of the future, never made plans for the next time we would be together. As we had agreed in Imladris, she would call me melethron when I saw her and I would reply in kind. Each trip to see her was agony, wondering how she would greet me. Each trip home was, in some ways, worse, wondering if she would still be my lover when next we met. Only when we were together was I completely happy.

I was wondering how soon I could convince my father to send me to Arwen again when he came storming into my room. “Get your gear together. Take Fanya and ride for Imladris. Now!”

“What…?” I did not even get to finish the question. My father was pulling me out of his chair.

“Make haste, ion nín. You must get to Imladris as soon as possible. Fanya has agreed to bear you thence.” Fanya was my father’s horse, child of one of the Mearas, almost as fleet of foot and as tireless as they. I had never known the horse to accept any other rider. “I do not know what has happened, but I know it must be serious indeed. I heard Elrond’s cry in my mind. We have not farspoken one another since the Last Alliance. He did not answer when I called back so I doubt he knows I heard him, but whatever it is, it is serious. Tell him I said all enmity aside. Whatever he needs, if I can help, I will. Now, go. If her father is so upset as to farspeak me without realizing, Arwen will need you.”

My father’s urgency was catching. I grabbed my weapons and a cloak. A servant met me in the hall with lembas and water, enough to get me to Imladris. Fanya was waiting outside the stable, eager to be off. I swung astride, ready to go.

“Do not stop until you must. Fanya can carry you.” He touched his hand to Fanya’s haunches and he sprang away. “Go!”