Cuil Eden

53

Glorfindel smiled, his heart full of affection and also a little relief at the scene he found when he reached the garden Arwen and her friends had chosen for their afternoon retreat. On the way to the glade, Celeborn had been called away, yet he had left with a promise to come and see both Glorfindel and Legolas in the evening.

As Glorfindel had hoped would happen, the Lady of Imladris and his young prince were sitting next to each other, heads bent close as they talked in low voices while watching Gîlríon play with the Lórien maids. Indeed Arwen was all kind attention and smiles as he had foreseen, and Legolas was relaxed and at ease around her as Glorfindel had only rarely seen him when in the company of others. It heartened Glorfindel to see Legolas so easily accepted, and even though he knew his Lord’s kind-hearted daughter did not hold to prejudices and had indeed often spoken out against the violence and hatred springing up after the attack on her mother, it still raised his hopes to one day see Legolas sitting so accepted at Elrond’s table.

When they came close enough for Legolas to realize that his Lord had joined them, Glorfindel once again felt a surge of warmth in his heart at the way the youth's face brightened. And when Legolas, without his otherwise characteristic reticence, reached to take Glorfindel's hand to draw him down next to him, Glorfindel in turn could not resist and wrapped an arm around Legolas' waist, pressing a kiss to his brow at the same time.

Arwen smiled warmly at the open display of affection and Glorfindel chuckled, knowing that he indeed acted as besotted as Celeborn claimed he did. Still, he was happy, happier than he had ever been, and Arwen was aware of that – and glad for him, too.

“Have you been having a good time?” he asked Legolas, then laughed when Gîlríon launched himself at him for an embrace and a kiss before he let himself be sent back to return to his play.

“Oh yes,” Legolas said with a teasing smile. “In fact, the Lady Arwen was just telling me how it is that you came to bear the title of Seneschal. All this time I had thought it had to hold a different meaning in Imladris, and yet here I am told that indeed you should oversee the feasting of your Lord’s guests as well as the distribution of new linen and the stocking of the larder…”

Glorfindel laughed out loud and shook his head in mock exasperation. “Ah, fair Lady, I leave my beloved in your company for a mere hour, only to find both of you laughing at me when I return!”

“Ah, Seneschal,” Arwen said, her eyes twinkling with mirth, “it is hardly my fault if you courted the prince under false pretences – and you must admit that it is a well-loved and often retold tale, especially among your own warriors. Who else can claim to be led into battle by their Lord’s majordomo? Or even better, which court can boast of a chamberlain who once slew a Balrog?”

“How did you come to bear that title, then?” Legolas asked curiously. “How is it that Lord Elrond would give one of the most famous warriors of our people the position of Seneschal on his return to these shores? Did he doubt the truth of your claim and seek to test you?”

“From the stories I was told, no one would have doubted him – his fëa shone so brightly with the light of Aman that all those who beheld him were awed,” Arwen said, and Glorfindel smiled ruefully.

“The full story then, roch neth? Ai, I had hoped to escape this for a few more months at least, but I guess that this is still better than having it be told by my warriors around the fire – they love nothing better than to see me embarrassed by it.”

Glorfindel paused to steal a sip from the goblet in Legolas’ hands as if to steel himself for what was to come, then made a grimace at the taste of sweet apple cider, light and fit only for children.

“Oh, but certainly I deserve more than that, if you are to torture me with the telling of this particular story?” he exclaimed, so that the youth laughed and quickly emptied the goblet of what remained of the cider.

“I hope that this will be more to your liking, my Lord,” Legolas said as he filled the goblet with a dark, red wine from a so far unopened wineskin instead, holding it with both hands as he presented it to Glorfindel again.

His Lord’s hands rose and came to cover his, holding them in place as he bent his head to drink.

“Oh, much better.” Glorfindel’s voice was soft and almost husky as he looked at Legolas over the rim of the goblet, their hands still touching. Legolas swallowed, staring in fascination at his Lord’s full, wine-stained lips, and then, as if pulled towards Glorfindel by an invisible force, he leaned forward to touch his lips to Glorfindel’s in a short, sweet kiss.

Once again, Glorfindel felt warmth flood his heart at the freely offered affection. He smiled as he held Legolas' eyes, pleased to note that although the youth had blushed at the public nature of the kiss, he had neither lowered his eyes nor tried to move back.

“Your story then, Legolas nín,” Glorfindel said and gently put the goblet down, taking Legolas’ hand into his to entwine their fingers together. He could feel Arwen’s approval and hear soft laughter and whispers from the maidens still playing with Gîl, all of them of an age to play the game of courting as well.

“It is a quickly told tale, I fear, for when I first came to Imladris to help Elrond secure and defend the vale, there was already a Captain of the Guard. Elrond of course could not simply demote him, nor would I have wanted him to, yet after several weeks his household grew so fractious at the continued confusion regarding how to seat me, what deference to pay me, how to house, clothe, feed and address me, that Elrond had no choice but to give me a designated position and responsibilities. His Seneschal had only shortly before decided to sail and there had not yet been the time to name a successor, so it was decreed that at least for the time being, that was the title I would hold.”

“Yet you are Captain of the Guard now, are you not?” Legolas asked. “I have heard your warriors call you their Captain – but still you are referred to as Imladris’ Seneschal.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Many years have passed since then, and in the beginning, I was glad that Elrond already had a trustworthy Captain who knew his men well. For you see, it had been a long time since I had fought with a sword in my hand, and my ways were considered ancient – in many ways I had just as much to learn as a green recruit. So I was glad to hold a different position, for it gave me the opportunity to learn my way in this new court by listening carefully when Elrond convened with his councillors, and paying attention to land and people alike when I rode out with his guards. And after several months, a routine had developed which we were all satisfied with. I would take part in Elrond’s council and go over reports, working out strategies and ways to improve our defences, while the Captain of the Guard oversaw the warriors’ training and worked out patrol routes and schedules. It truly was a good solution, making the best of our abilities, and so it was decided that I would keep title and position of Seneschal while sharing all military responsibilities with the then-Captain. Although, in retrospect…”

Glorfindel frowned, then laughed a little and lowered his voice for the following sentences. “The only one who did not seem happy with the arrangement was Erestor. He seemed to dislike me right from the beginning, and now that I think about it, certainly it was but jealousy – he must have coveted the position of Seneschal himself!”

“And now, centuries later, you are Captain of the Guard, yet still hold the title of Seneschal as well. It is no surprise he dislikes you so!” Legolas said with a laugh.

“He was just a junior councillor then, and a recently made one at that, with many domestic responsibilities if I remember right… It has truly been a long time, and I did not pay him much attention then. He was just a quiet young scribe with rather too much of a hunger for advancement – well, and as you know, he has not changed much to his advantage since then,” Glorfindel said and grinned at Legolas’ grimace.

“Certainly you are right in some points, yet there is no need to be unkind,” Arwen interjected in her calm, clear voice. “I know that there is no love lost between the two of you, yet he was a good and patient tutor to me and my brothers. I think there is more to that story, for even though I had not yet been born at that time, I have heard tales according you a part of the blame for the coldness of relations between you.”

“Do you mean the tale where I seduced a lover away from him?” Glorfindel shook his head with a laugh born from true amusement. “Ah, fair Lady, you might well hold your old tutor in affection, yet even so you will have to agree that it is a highly unlikely one. The truth is that Erestor never had a beloved, not now and not then. It is certainly possible that he secretly loved someone, yet he never acted on it. I can assure you, Lady, that I never seduced someone away from him, and if he truly was in love with one who preferred my company, then it was neither my fault nor the fault of he whose affections I enjoyed, for neither of us was aware of it. How could we be, when Erestor never spoke of it to anyone? No, if that tale is true, then Erestor only has himself to blame for never acting on his feelings.”

Glorfindel gently tightened his hold on Legolas’ fingers, then raised Legolas' hand to his mouth to press a kiss to it, seeking to reassure the youth at this mention of past lovers. It truly was time, he thought, to give Legolas proof that his affection was deep and true, and once again he felt his heart swell with tender love when Legolas smiled at him, shy and beautiful and worshipping him for loving him.

“So, there you have your story, Legolas nín. And I think that now I am owed a story in return,” he said, trying to lighten the mood, for he could feel that Arwen was still not happy to have the enmity between Erestor and him unresolved.

“A story, my Lord?” Legolas asked, looking alarmed by the prospect. “I do not have any interesting stories to tell…”

“Interesting stories from our favorite prince’s past? I think I have arrived just at the right time!” an all too well known voice drawled behind them, and when Legolas turned around in shock, already feeling his cheeks heat, there stood Haldir, watching him with a raised brow.

“Haldir,” Legolas said weakly and swallowed, remembering only too clearly all that had transpired in the morning.

“Indeed,” the guard agreed, lazily sauntering towards them. “I came to claim the moment you promised me, Lord Glorfindel,” Haldir said and bowed, ”yet this sounds promising… I shall stay and listen to what tale you have to tell, Highness.”

Haldir’s eyes twinkled with amusement and as always, his use of title seemed to indicate a lack of respect for the position thus signified;, yet although Haldir’s arrogant insouciance still made Legolas feel nervous, somehow he was aware that this time, there was no true malice behind his words.

“Then sit for a moment.” With an impatient gesture, Glorfindel invited Haldir to share their blanket, refusing to pay him any attention beyond that. “Indeed, beloved,” he continued instead, pressing another kiss to Legolas’ hand simply for the pleasure of seeing the wonder in the youth’s eyes, “you owe me a tale now, and it is I who will choose the subject.” He was silent for a moment, making a show out of trying to think up some outrageous question, but at last he laughed and took pity on Legolas. “Your horse.”

Legolas stared at him. “Lainiell?”

“Yes,” Glorfindel said, chuckling at the relief on Legolas’ face. “You told me that she comes from your realm’s most coveted bloodlines – that her sire was indeed your father’s most prized stud. So how did you get her? I do not think your father gave her to you as a present?”

“A daughter of Amlug, pure-bred grandson of famed Alagos himself? My father would rather have cut off his own hand!” Legolas laughed.

“That shaggy pony?” Haldir’s voice dripped disbelief, but for once, Legolas refused to be intimidated.

“Oh, in terms of showiness she is no equal to the sleek palfreys you seem to be so fond of here in Lórien, but in Mirkwood, we breed our horses for strong muscles, and even stronger hearts. She is inbred on both sides to Alagos himself, and it shows!” he enthused. “Compact and flexible, with a broad chest and powerful hindquarters – she might not be equal to my Lord’s Asfaloth when racing on an even track, but she is bred to a dense forest filled with dangers, and there, she is truly without equal!

"But to answer your question, my Lord, one year my brother promised me the choice of one of his young horses for my begetting day. It was to be one of the untrained ones, a two- or three-year-old I could start to work with, but a few weeks before my begetting day, his most prized broodmare foaled – twins.”

Legolas swallowed and shook his head. “I had seen it happen before, twice. One time the mare just barely survived, and the other mare died together with the foals. This time, both foals were still alive, although they were tiny and weak. We tried our best, but one foal died after a few hours.

"The other one – my Lainiell – was very weak, and her hind legs were deformed so that for several days, she needed help to get up. My brother had given up on her, but I just could not… She was from the best of our bloodlines, and despite her weakness, you could see the defiance in her, the will to live! I told him that I wanted her for my begetting day present, and although he thought that it was wasted on a foal that would not live more than a week or two, he accepted.

"It was hard work, for I had to help her up every few hours to drink. I slept next to their stable for a week, but as you can see, it was worth it. She quickly grew stronger, and once she could move on her own, her legs righted themselves. Thus I now own a mare that can claim Alagos as great-grandsire on both sides, and I have often been envied for it.”

Glorfindel smiled with open affection, loving this side of Legolas which was so rarely seen – a Legolas who was animated and happy, passionate about a subject and proud of his knowledge. Glorfindel swore to himself that he would make certain to see it more often.

“I am sorry you cannot breed her. Mayhap one day we will be able to procure one of your realm’s stallions…”

Legolas smiled. “They would never let one of the better bloodlines leave the forest. Yet mayhap one day there will be an opportunity… Lainiell is still young, after all.”

“Celeirdúr still holds you in great affection, I am certain of it,” Glorfindel said softly. “Maybe he could send a young, unproven stallion with the messengers – they need not know if we let him have a few hours with Lainiell in a meadow somewhere.”

Legolas nodded, although he did not answer, and Glorfindel knew that it was something he did not want to allow himself to believe in.

“Still, now that you have given me your story, it is your turn to demand one from one of us,” he continued, hoping that it would distract Legolas from his memories. “Since I have already told you my story, maybe you should demand one from Arwen or Haldir?”

Legolas frowned and gave the guard a measuring look. Haldir had teased him mercilessly, and this was a golden opportunity to repay him in kind. For a moment, Legolas toyed with the idea of asking him just how he was as knowledgeable as its owner about the Master Saddler’s shop… Certainly that would pay Haldir back for all the games he had played on him. But then, he remembered how Haldir had saved him, and how, despite all his obnoxiousness, for the first time there had been true kindness shining through. No – he would not needlessly embarrass the guard in front of Arwen.

Still, there was a question he could ask, one that might perhaps make for an interesting tale. He swallowed and looked around, making certain that the Lórien maids were out of earshot – Arwen, he wagered, would certainly have heard all of the sordid details of his life from her brothers already, even if she had been kind enough to blithely pretend that he was just a dear friend’s beloved.

“Actually,” he said slowly, “there is something that I would like to ask you, Haldir. How did you know who I was? When you came to Imladris and told my Lord that I was Legolas…”

"Oh, that was not the first time I saw you,” Haldir said and smirked at the shocked look this got him. “I had seen you before – in Mirkwood. I have to admit that I was not spying on you particularly; in fact, when I saw you I thought you were just an especially unassuming little horse guard. But then, later on, I heard one of the others refer to you as Prince Legolas… That got my attention. Be glad that I had to leave the forest that very day to meet one of Lord Elrond’s agents, or who knows what might have happened…”

Legolas paled, no doubt remembering what had happened when later on, another came upon him in the forest, and Glorfindel wrapped one arm around the youth's waist to hold him close.

“Haldir spent some years in Imladris,” he explained softly. “He only returned to Lórien to take on the position of Marchwarden a few years ago. As I think you have realized, he is not very fond of your father, and thus, for a while he found it more fulfilling to work for Lord Elrond instead of guarding Lórien’s borders.”

“You were a spy?” Legolas asked with such patent disbelief that Haldir gifted him with another smirk.

“A good one, too – after all, in the end I proved to be the only one able to recognize Thranduil’s youngest. Be glad, Highness, for now you are wearing silks and velvets instead of being put to work currying your Lord’s horses!”

Legolas huffed but refused to dignify that with a reply while Glorfindel shook his head at Haldir.

“Do you truly intend to make your situation even worse, guard?” he asked pointedly while Arwen frowned at them all.

“I think we have heard enough tales for today,” she said firmly, and Legolas nodded.

“Indeed – I thank you for your kind company, my Lady, but I think that now I should go and join Gîl for a while.” He picked up the small ball made from soft cloth that had rolled to his feet and laughed when Gîlríon came running towards them, grabbing his hand and begging his ada to come play with him.

Haldir watched Legolas go join the game, smirking to himself at the sweetness of the scene when Legolas picked up the exuberant child for a quick kiss. “You can say what you want about the little prince, but he does make lovely children,” he sighed, snickering at the look this got him from both Glorfindel and Arwen. “Get him with child again, and do it quickly… It suits him!” he suggested, then raised his hands at the expression of cold disapproval on Glorfindel’s face. “Do not worry, I have apologized for my treatment of him, and he knows that it will not happen again. Now if I could have those minutes you promised me, Lord Glorfindel? I apologize for depriving you of his company, my Lady Arwen, but it will not take long.”

Glorfindel was still frowning, but with one last look at Legolas and Gîlríon he reluctantly got up, hoping that for once, Haldir would be satisfied to not cause them further problems.