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Chapter Eight
Gimli and Legolas’ return was not heralded as it had been the first time. They rode up to the gates of Thranduil’s Halls completely un-accosted by the guards no doubt watching them from the trees as Legolas had once done, what felt like ages ago. No one seemed at all enthusiastic about seeing them again – perhaps most of the citizens hadn’t even realized they left.
Even Thranduil, when they strode into the Great Hall, looked up from some legislation he had been flipping idly through to muse, “Back so soon, my son? I didn’t expect you for at least eight months.” Gimli glanced uncomfortably between the two blond elves, uncertain whether the king was joking or not. Legolas was no clue to figuring this out, though, because he had never appreciated his father’s humor.
He had decided that the best way to share news of his departure was quickly and casually to Thranduil, and gently and apologetically to Eleina. Thranduil surely wouldn’t be too bent up, and Eleina would hold her composure.
“I am afraid I can only stay for a short while again, however, and then I must leave with . . . I have a duty to King Elessar of Minis Tirith . . . many dwarves from Erebor are to meet us south of the forest and travel to Minis Tirith in order to help rebuild the city,” Legolas tried to explain, but his father’s stare had intensified and he had sat up straighter. He found the words floundering on his lips and his throat going dry at the stare. “If there is anyone in the kingdom who would help, they should come with Gimli and myself . . . only for so long, until the city has been rebuilt.” He felt as though communication had broken down entirely and with one last hope blurted out rather plainly, “Trees. They don’t have trees there.”
“Don’t speak down to me, Legolas. You forget I am your father and a king, and I know far more than you do about promises and duties. I am only considering – ah, there she was. Eleina!” Thranduil barked, tossing the legislature onto the floor beside the throne. “Eleina, come here, child!”
Eleina had been walking innocently past the throne room, cradling in her skirts a bundle of the prettiest fallen leaves she could find. Autumn was her favorite season; the colors made her feel alive and joyful, even when she really wasn’t – joyful, that is. They gave her a false sense of joy that she appreciated very much. As children, autumn had been Legolas’ favorite season, as well, and the two of them had always collected leaves to string together and make garlands out of to hang over Eleina’s bed. She loved the smell. Even though she wasn’t sure when – or if – Legolas would be returning, she thought she might go ahead and make some strings at any rate. If he came back soon, he could see them, and maybe it would make him smile at her the way he had a long, long time ago.
When Thranduil had yelled for her from the Great Hall, a few of the leaves fell listlessly from her skirt, and a kind servant replaced them for her before she would budge from the spot.
As soon as Eleina entered the Great Hall, Legolas felt his heart drop. He had been rehearsing all morning what he would tell her and now there was no doubt in his mind that Thranduil was going to ruin it all. He made to interrupt his father, but Thranduil held up his hand for silence and announced before Legolas could prevent anything,
“Eleina, look, your husband and his friend have returned.” Legolas’ turned to survey Eleina’s face; her eyes had widened and her eyebrows raised.
“Oh! I was just out collecting leaves—“ she began to explain, looking down at her skirts, but Thranduil wasn’t done and continued, “But you should go ahead and say your farewells again, for they depart almost immediately.”
There was a pause in which Gimli cringed for his friend and Legolas held his breath so as not to miss any reaction. Eleina’s eyebrows sunk for only the slightest second into a deep furrow, and then she had returned to the placid, fair but aloof lady that had greeted them home before.
“Is this so?” she asked finally, looking at Legolas with blue eyes he was incapable of reading.
He nodded, offering quickly, “It will not be forever. I have made a promise to King Elessar of Minis Tirith to help him—“
“Then farewell, my lord, may you have safe travels,” she said simply and, spinning on her heel, all but ran from the Grand Hall. Yellow and red and orange leaves flew from her skirt and left a trail in her wake, and had one followed it, they would have been led straight to her room where Eleina had dumped the rest on the floor and collapsed on her bed to cry. Things were never going to be all right.
Legolas turned to his father and hissed with utter disrespect, “What cruelty is this? It is my news to share with her and yet you go telling her in the worst way possible. Monster! You are trying to hurt her!”
Thranduil only laughed at his son’s anger, “And you make it so easy to do so. No, I am not trying to hurt her; I am not the one hurting her. I daresay I care more for her than you do. I have never abandoned her. You saw her; she is fine. I’m sure she is used to disappointment with you at this point in time.” Legolas’ face had taken on a bright shade of pink most uncommon among elves, who as a rule try to retain their composure at all times. Gimli wondered if he wasn’t going to have to hold his friend back from murdering his own father, and simultaneously wondered how such a – but then, Thranduil actually reminded him very much of his own father.
As though to add salt to the already gaping wound in their relationship, Thranduil waved his hand dismissingly as he sat back down on his throne, “You may leave whenever you like, and take what you need. Since you desire elves to accompany you, ask around. I’m sure there will be some willing to go.” Legolas opened his mouth to snarl some nasty retort, but Gimli thought maybe it was best if they simply put some space between themselves and the king. He put a hand on Legolas’ arm which brought him back to the ground, and quickly, without another word, they exited.
That morning almost a year ago now, after much searching, Eleina had found him in the stables. He had been gone all night, robbing her of her sleep for dutiful worrying. She had paced the halls for most of that time, finally retreating to bed for a few brief hours before awaking, alone. The night guards had returned, and one, Amergin, whom had always been kind to her, sought her out, knocking at the door to her bedroom.
“What is it?” she asked breathlessly, fearing the worst from the dreadful exhaustion on his face.
Amergin quickly shook his head, “Legolas is fine. I am just sent to inform you that he is departing this very minute as an emergency messenger to—“ but Eleina had already brushed past him and, in her robe, strode quickly through Thranduil’s Halls to the above ground stables. She managed to catch Legolas just as he was changing horses, leading a dark brown stallion from his stall.
“What are you doing” she asked softly, startling him. He glanced at her over his shoulder, surprised to see her there. He had hoped to be long gone by the time she came looking for him; it’s why he had told Amegin to relay the message once she woke up.
Legolas turned back to checking the horse, making sure it was fit for the journey, and answered as casually as he could through a mixture of exhaustion, anxiety, and excitement, “I’m going to Imladris.”
“Right now? Why? You’ve been gone all night.” He said nothing, so she repeated, “Why, Legolas?”
“It’s nothing important, Eleina. I’m just serving as a messenger.”
“What’s your message that calls you away so quickly after you’ve returned?”
“I’m not to share,” he answered simply, turning again to face her.
“What harm is there in telling your wife?”
“A guard’s oath of secrecy is no light matter!” he insisted, giving her a horrified look that she dare encourage him to share such secret information. It was something wives simply didn’t do.
“And neither are wedding vows which you are now so quickly riding away from.”
He sighed and shook his head, taking a step closer as he insisted, “I will not be gone long.” She turned her face away and he felt the sting on his cheek as though she had slapped him. He sighed again and insisted, “Please do not be angry with me. Give me your blessing for the trip. I will not be gone long.”
“But why you?”
This made Legolas pause. He hadn’t considered before why it had been him selected to act as messenger. Thranduil had simply stated it, and Legolas had all too happily accepted, glad at the prospect of leaving Mirkwood, even if only for a short while. He assumed it was because he had been one of the guards that had pursued the creature Gollum all through the night and would thus be able to give a firsthand account.
“Don’t go. Have someone else go,” Eleina suddenly ordered, stepping around to put herself between him and the horse.
“What?”
“I said don’t go. There are plenty of other guards who can go in your place.”
He gave her a confused look, unused to such firmness from her, and certainly of such concern for him from her, “You are making a big deal out of nothing. I’m just carrying a message. I shall return within a couple days—“
“If it’s not a big deal, then let someone else go.”
“Eleina—“
“Then let me come with you. I’ve always wanted to see—“
“No!” The refusal came out louder and more forcefully than Legolas and intended, and Eleina didn’t know whether to be frightened or annoyed. She had tapped into something, though. Either there was danger involved, or else he was relishing the opportunity to get away from her.
To soften the blow of his refusal, he asked in a lower voice, “Why do you mind that I am gone? Surely you will not miss me.”
“I just have a bad feeling in my stomach is all,” she frowned. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“These are dangerous times, Eleina. Nothing is supposed to feel right.” He hadn’t meant it to sound so grim, but it was certainly the truth.
“Legolas—“
“I’m going and nothing you can say will change my mind, nor have you any right to try and sway me from my errand. It is my duty. You understand that.”
She nodded and looked to the ground, then tried admitting, “I’m frightened.”
“Don’t be. You are safe here. There are plenty of guards and—“
“Not for me. For you.”
He smiled. It certainly wasn’t often she showed affection for him, particularly not this strongly, and it almost did make him rethink his trip. But no, he had spoken, and she would have to learn to respect that.
“I thank you, but I assure you, all will be well. I will return so soon you will not even know I have gone.”
And he had left without a backward glance.
Once the tears had been spent, Eleina sat up and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She looked awful. How long had it been since she cried? And really, she didn’t know what she was even crying about, because she had certainly expected as much. Legolas wasn’t going to stick around Mirkwood, not when he had made new friends in much more exciting places. He had always been a thrill seeker, an adventurer. Once upon a time, she had been too. But then she had been caught up in the war at home . . . and everything had changed.
She pulled her knees to her chest and saw the leaves scattered across the floor. Dropping her feet over the edge of the bed, she stood suddenly and nodded to herself in the mirror. Well no more! He expected her to bid him farewell and sit dutifully at home with his senile father who bullied her. He expected her to continue on as lonely as she had been these past few months, idly twiddling her thumbs and hoping someday things would change again, this time for the better. No! She refused, utterly and entirely, as adamantly as he had refused to take her with him last time – and she had been right then, she wished everyone to note. His errand had wound up being more than what he thought, and he had not come home before running off to save the world.
With a hard jaw and a high nose, Eleina stomped through the palace, ignoring the servants save to ask where the Lord Legolas was. The answers were vague and unhelpful, but finally she found him standing just outside, having just ended a conversation with several elves. Gimli stood stoutly by his side, but backed away a few feet when Eleina came marching over.
“Lady, I—“
“I’m going with you,” she said simply, putting her hands on her hips to try and make herself appear bigger. She was serious and she wanted to look the part.
“Wha—“
“You heard me. I’m going with you, and I’m not accepting no for an answer this time. Too many times, Legolas, have I obediently followed your commands to sit here in this kingdom that is not mine with its beastly king while you run around the world, seeing all the things I taught you to desire! Twice now you have left me imprisoned in these stone halls; I will not sit down for a third one.”
“All right.”
“You can try to convince me otherwise, but I’ve made up my mind. It’s not fair to me for you to so quickly throw your duty to me to the wind simply because adventure beckons. Believe me, I understand the call, and that makes it even less fair that I am left to dwindle away in this—“
“Eleina, all right.”
“—stony prison. And I realize I’m repeating myself, but I’m very firm about this!”
Gimli suddenly roared with laughter and opened his arms wide as he bellowed, “You have not heard him, Lady. He said all right!”
“I – what?” She glanced hesitantly between Legolas and Gimli.
Legolas was actually smiling, his heart light and floating up among the tree tops for the burden Eleina had just removed from him. He couldn’t have asked her to abandon Mirkwood to join him, but here she had offered, and so he need not feel guilty about anything at all. In fact, she had made it sound as though he were doing her a favor now! And besides, it had been amusing to see her get so worked up again; such passion had been lying dormant for as long as he could remember. He had forgotten how absurd she looked when she tried to be serious.
“You are welcome to join our party, Lady Eleina,” Legolas assured her. Eleina was caught off-guard by his smile. She certainly hadn’t expected him to accept her decision so quickly.
“Oh. All . . . all right then. When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow, if you can be ready.” She nodded, curtsied, then ran off t
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