Eryn Galen, Cerveth TA 1052
Nearly two months passed after they'd received the news of Ithilwen's death before Elrond and his wife and the twins were able to go to the Woodland Realm. Just as an incursion by brigands had claimed the queen's life, so had similar incidents with both men and orcs threatened the borders of Rivendell and the haven's neighbors. They'd had to see to the business of securing their own realm first and the safety of their people.
It was a far different place from the dense but wholesome forest they'd once known. A shadow was now upon it, encroaching slowly but surely upon the Wood-elves' lands. It was easy to understand why men had began to call the forest Mirkwood and even easier to see how bandits or orcs could have escaped the Elves' vigilance. Evil of unknown origins was at work against Thranduil's people and if not for their valor, strength and cunning, they might have been overcome at the very start of this creeping pestilence their green wood suffered from.
As they travelled the elven path, they came upon the remains of the outlaws Legolas and his scouts had captured. The corpses had been strung from the trees as a warning to other trespassers, a grisly signpost that spoke of the extremes Thranduil's people had been driven to. The Wood-elves as a rule were not given to such hostile tactics but the fate of their beloved queen hung heavily upon them all. At any rate, it seemed their newfound animosity to humans was effective; men now hesitated to enter Greenwood as much from fear of the Elves' retribution as from the rumors of the growing darkness within.
It was with some relief that they found the Woodland Realm itself still untouched by the malaise that blighted the rest of Eryn Galen. For how long nobody could say but all prayed the Silvan Elves would withstand this latest threat to their well-being and security.
They were welcomed at the doors of the royal halls by a sorrowful royal family. Even Melthoron shed his arrogance and antagonism in his grief, gaining Elladan and Elrohir's compassion for the first time in their oft fractious acquaintance. They spoke consolingly to him and Brethildor and spared even more comfort for Nimeithel who had known the terror of being in the bandits' clutches and actually witnessed her mother's killing. But it was Legolas who drew the most concern from Elrond's sons. The youngest prince's welcome was understandably subdued but something else lurked in his blue eyes. Something neither twin could discern but which made both feel vaguely alarmed.
Thranduil told them everything that very day. The details of the first skirmish and the abduction of his queen and daughter. The rescue that had ended in tragedy. And Legolas' continued refusal to absolve himself of blame. That was the crux of the matter, the main reason the Elvenking had requested a visit from Elrond. Nimeithel was slowly recovering from the trauma of her experience but Legolas was not. If anything his state of mind seemed to be deteriorating if what he had done since Ithilwen's death was any indication. Already there was talk that the youngest prince was going mad.
"That is utter rubbish!" Elrohir exclaimed, outraged that anyone should even think thusly about his friend. "Who dares spread such slanderous tales about him?"
"Peace, ion nîn," Elrond quietly reproved. "'Tis only loose talk."
"Loose talk is oft mistaken for truth when it has been around long enough," the Elf-knight retorted, clenching a hand. "I will not have Legolas demeaned by unthinking gossips!"
Elladan placed a restraining hand on his twin's wrist. "It will not hold," he said. "Legolas is much too beloved of the people for such a tale to last long enough to be taken for truth."
"Nevertheless, Elrohir is right," Thranduil unexpectedly concurred. "'Tis debasing talk and sullies my son's honor. If any were to get back to him, it would only further undermine what little peace of mind he still possesses." He glanced at Elrond. "I had hoped you would know how to help him considering your reputation as a healer."
Elrond nodded. "I will do everything in my power to help him," he said. "But I warrant it will take an inordinate length of time to heal his spirit. And your son has never been a cooperative patient. Which begs the question. Will he allow us to get close enough to effect any kind of cure?"
"Us?"
"Aye, Thranduil, my whole family. Particularly my sons. I cannot do this alone. For anything to happen, Legolas will have to put his trust in others first and we have long acknowledged that he trusts my sons above all others save for yourself mayhap."
"You speak truly," the Elvenking conceded. "But if he trusts the twins so much why do you wonder if he will let them get close to him?"
"Because he seemed...distant with us when we greeted him," Elladan took up the tale. "He has never been so restrained with us before. I fear he does not welcome our company in this matter."
Elrohir shook his head emphatically. "Nay, muindor, if Legolas behaved thusly with us, 'tis not because he did not desire our company. Rather he is shamed by what he perceives as his egregious failure and therefore thinks himself unworthy of our regard. His reserve was not born of dislike for us but of his sense of disgrace."
The others stared at him. Elrond smiled faintly.
"My ever insightful Elf-knight," he remarked. "I had forgotten how well you know Legolas. And as such I am fully inclined to agree with your evaluation of his behavior."
"As am I," Elladan added. "I am an idiot three times over not to have thought of that." He regarded his twin fondly. "But then as Adar put it, you know him very well; better than anybody else, I dare say."
"Be that as it may, what can we do for him?" Elrohir directed them back to the meat of the matter. "We must heal him soonest before he breaks under the strain of this malady."
"We will help him," Elrond assured his younger son. "But before we can do so, he must be willing to be helped." He looked at Thranduil. "From your account, it seems he has kept everyone at bay. Even his own family."
Thranduil nodded. "He became even more remote after the incident with Brethildor."
"What about Mithrael and Heledir?" Elladan inquired, referring to Legolas' childhood friends.
The king shook his head. "He allowed them to console him for a space but nothing more. He soon retreated from them as well." He looked helplessly at the Imladrin lord, an expression so unusual for the masterfully confident king that it unsettled the others. "I am at my wits' end, Elrond. I fear daily for his sanity. I fervently pray he will open up to your sons at the very least."
"As we all do," the loremaster said. "But for now, allow us to observe him. Mayhap his demeanor will provide us with more clues as to what will be the best course of action to take with him."
After Thranduil gave his acquiescence, Celebrian stirred. She had not said a word throughout the discussion but now she softly said: "And what of you, Thranduil? How are you coping with your loss?"
The Elvenking started at her words. Until then he'd not spoken to them of his own grief, so involved was he in the problem of his youngest son.
"I miss her dreadfully," he said heavily. "But I am consoled by the knowledge that she did not suffer overmuch before her death," he added, visibly striving to control his emotions. "Had they succeeded in their intent against her..." He stopped and suddenly shuddered. They were all overcome by the naked anguish in the proud blue eyes. "Not that it would have mattered to me had they done so," the Elvenking whispered brokenly. "I would not have cared if only I could still have her by my side today. But she would not have borne such a dishonor to herself. She would have faded had she survived. I still would have lost her." His voice caught at the last and he began to weep.
Celebrian swiftly rose from her seat and took the widowed king into her warm arms. She spoke no words but simply held him and allowed him to vent his grief against her shoulder.
The following day, Thranduil led his guests to his queen's green grave. The only other Elves in attendance were his children and some of his late wife's kin. Celebrian openly wept over the flower-bedecked mound. She and Ithilwen had been almost like the siblings neither had. She sang a sweet and haunting song for her friend, letting the wind carry the lyrics and the music west over the mountains and across the plains beyond to the shores of Middle-earth and thereby over sea to the Blessed Realm where the queen's spirit now abided in the Halls of Waiting. This last gift to Ithilwen brought a measure of peace and comfort to her bereaved family. All that is except one.
Elrond frowned as he observed Thranduil's youngest son. Legolas kept apart from his family, his face stony, his eyes blank and staring. When one or the other of his mother's kinsmen attempted to comfort him, he would flinch and shrink from their touch.
The Lord of Rivendell was doubly troubled by the prince's conduct. Despite Thranduil's warning from the day before, he was still not prepared to witness firsthand the young Elf's altered behavior. This simply was not right. Legolas was the most affectionate of Thranduil's sons, the most accepting of affection and friendship in return. This cold, withdrawn demeanor was glaringly uncharacteristic of him.
Movement to his right caught his eyes and he turned his head. Elladan and Elrohir had detached themselves from the party of Rivendell Elves and crossed over to where the royal family gathered. Elrond exchanged a glance with his wife.
Curious stares followed the twins' progress as they walked to Legolas, flanking him when they reached him. Elrond watched the prince closely. Legolas did not cringe from his sons' proximity, did not move to distance himself from the brethren.
Elladan raised a hand to the archer's shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. At Legolas' other side, Elrohir took the prince's hand in his warm grip and held it, stroking the latter's palm soothingly with his thumb. The prince neither flinched nor spurned their touch. After a while, he trembled visibly then leaned against Elrohir, as if in need of support. The younger twin immediately threw a protective arm around him. At the same time, Legolas blindly reached out his free hand to Elladan. The older twin quickly took it and held it fast.
Elrond glanced at Thranduil. The Elvenking had not failed to notice his son's acceptance of the brethren's loving attention when he had rejected all others, even those of his own kin. Thranduil looked in the healer's direction. Their eyes met. In that one swift exchange, they came to an understanding regarding the Woodland Realm's youngest prince. By nightfall, Thranduil informed his son that he would depart with the Imladrin party a fortnight hence and that he was to stay in Rivendell until Elrond released him from his care.
Legolas submitted to his father's decision with troubling meekness and a distinct lack of enthusiasm. That in itself was alarming. Ever had the prince looked forward to every visit to Rivendell though he was recalcitrant enough to take due umbrage at being ordered there precipitately. Yet now he accepted Thranduil's decree unquestioningly and set about preparing for an extended stay in the vale with all the excitement of a sloth. Needless to say, his strange conduct disquieted the twins though they were already well-informed of its cause.
Watching Legolas listlessly pack his personal effects a few days before their departure, they wondered what would rouse their friend out of his self-imposed isolation. In an effort to dispel some of the prince's gloom, Elrohir quietly said: "We sympathize with you in your loss, Legolas. But, if it is any comfort to you, I would remind you that this sundering is not forever. She will be granted rebirth soonest for so gentle and kind a soul as your mother would surely be released from the Halls of Waiting ere too long."
With shocking suddenness, the prince turned on him, eyes flashing furiously. "And what good will that do any of us when a whole ocean separates these lands from Aman?! Spare me your empty condolences, Elrohir!"
Shocked silence greeted this muted eruption. Legolas returned to his packing, his body vibrating with barely suppressed anger. And then Elladan's tight rebuke pierced the uncomfortable quiet.
"Elrohir meant no offense and only sought to ease your pain," he pointed out, controlled ire edging his words.
The prince stopped and glanced at the younger twin. Elrohir's face was impassive but his eyes revealed some of the hurt Legolas' unwarranted reaction had evoked though he strove to conceal it. Legolas flushed guiltily.
"I am sorry, Elrohir," he murmured contritely.
The Elf-knight regarded him gravely for a space. "Your temper is understandable for you are overwrought in your grief," he said at length. "You had no need for platitudes."
Legolas felt his shame deepen at the darkling Elf's remarkable forbearance. "Mayhap not platitudes," he whispered. "But I need the friend who uttered them evermore."
The twilight eyes glittered with argent fire. "You have me, Calenlass," he declared soothingly. "You have both of us. Always."
He took no notice of his brother's sharp, observant stare. His concern lay with the golden-haired Elf whose spirit was so deplorably distressed that he would speak with such reckless inconsiderateness to his closest friends.
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Greenleaf and Imladris 5. Gwador: Sorrow's First Dawning by Eresse
Chapter end notes: Cerveth - Sindarin for July
ion nîn - my son
muindor - brother
Calenlass - Greenleaf (Elrohir's pet name for Legolas)
