CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The sun disappeared back behind the clouds to wrap Imladris in a dull gray chill that matched Legolas's ruined mood all too well. Yes, Elrond would allow him to go to Dul Goldur, but the Elf-lord had made it unbearably clear that Legolas would go only because Elrond allowed it.
Feeling anger and panic boil within him, Legolas reflected, [For all of his kindnesses, I should have known that I've only exchanged one prison for another. Can he not understand that I *must* go to Dul Goldur, else another will be sent in my stead to die? I thought him as concerned with Mirkwood as he is with Imladris. Instead I discover that, like my father, Lord Elrond's greatest interest is in controlling where I go and why. Very well,] he concluded, feeling morose, [I should have expected it. Rule me as you will.]
Legolas followed two paces behind Elrond with his head still held high, but with an emotional distance between them that he'd not felt since the early hours of their growing friendship. The older Elf's mood had also clearly shifted, and Legolas knew better than to attempt any continuation of their most recent discussion; from all appearances, Elrond would probably exhibit little patience with his intended bondmate's mood.
Unlatching the gate leading to the field just outside the new stable, Elrond strode through without bothering to look behind. He had no doubt that Legolas would latch the gate. [However much he may resent my involvement in his life,] Elrond reflected, [he will not risk harm to the horses.]
They were in time to see Glorfindel swing back the stable door.
"Lord Elrond, Lasgalen!" He hailed them with as much enthusiasm as ever, which made Legolas instantly wary. "It's good to see you, you're just in time."
"In time for what?" Elrond all but growled. "I am here to see Assassin."
"You may want to stand aside." Coming up to stand beside Elrond and Legolas, Glorfindel laughed at the four grooms only just emerging from the stable aisle and into the weak winter light. Assassin danced between them, anchored by two Elves on each side who held lead shanks and shrank as far away from the stallion as was Elvenly possibly.
"If you're away from the teeth," Glorfindel murmured, "they can't bite you."
"But their safety depends upon one another," Legolas observed, flanking Glorfindel, "because if either one lets go--"
"Death or dismemberment awaits," Glorfindel said cheerily.
"The horse is not dangerous, and the two of you are vastly overrating the danger of the situation," Elrond asserted.
"Of course we are." Glorfindel winked at Legolas.
Ears back and shaking his head, Assassin cut shapes, danced and blew. Bouncing out of the stable, he leaned and strained a shank, sidled one way and then the other to make both elves skitter along beside him. He paused long enough to indulge in a bit of rearing and head shaking, yanking his escorts about only to suddenly subside to their efforts to stop his forward motion and snorted loudly.
"There, you see? It's all show," protested Elrond, standing with hands on hips. "He's having fun terrorizing them while they lead him out. He's just been confined for too long."
"Oh, yes. Gentle as a kitten is that one," Glorfindel agreed.
Elrond whistled softly and Assassin's head shot up. Ears pricked forward, he stared at his master and settled instantly. Pacing docilely forward to close the distance between them, the horse shoved his muzzle into the hand Elrond offered, which left the elves leading him standing foolishly to either side and holding the slack leads in white-knuckled hands. Elrodn stroked the long neck, and Legolas thought that he caught a glance of relief shared between the nearest elves, but couldn't be certain.
"Glorfindel, we need to assess my stallion's well-being. We'll begin with his breathing: is all of his snorting merely for fun, or is he still subject to respiratory obstructions?" Turning to Legolas, Elrond continued, "I want you to place your hands just so--" he demonstrated, miming cupping his hands over the stallion's nostrils while standing before Assassin, but not actually touching the horse's face, "while Glorfindel and I listen to his lungs."
[You want me to stand here and hold my hands over this stallion's nostrils so that he can't breathe which is guaranteed to annoy him horribly,] Legolas thought. [Leave me in line for death, why don't you?]
The four elven grooms took the opportunity to drop their shanks and back away slowly when Legolas moved to stand directly in front of the stallion to do as Elrond had requested.
Taking up their positions at Assassin's flanks, Elrond and Glorfindel laid their arms over the stallion's back and leaned down to listen at his chest wall. Giving an inward sigh, Legolas placed his hands as Elrond had dictated he should. [There's really other way to find out, but I'd rather be a listening elf than one irritating this beast.]
Assassin eyed him with open suspicion but stood quietly enough as Legolas covered his nose. [No doubt because your lord and master is standing right there.] Seconds later, Assassin shook his head as he discovered he couldn't breathe. Legolas didn't let go.
"If you and I do this right," he murmured, "we'll only have to do it once."
He held on as long as he dared, letting go only when the stallion's gaze hardened and he threw his head upward violently, easily getting his nostrils out of range over Legolas's head. Startled, the stallion took a deep breath and then another.
Closing his eyes, Elrond listened to his horse's lungs and eventually straightened. Doing the same on the stallion's other side, Glorfindel observed, "I can't hear any crackling, wheezing or gurgling. Can you?"
"There's still a bit of crackling over here," said Elrond. "Not much, but some."
"I didn't hear any. Best we do that again."
The two elf-lords looked up to where Legolas and Assassin were glaring at each other.
"Would you please cover his nose again?"
Legolas looked from Elrond's hard gaze to the stallion's blazing glare and decided that the horse was the better to disobey at this point. Cupping his long fingers, Legolas moved them toward the horse's muzzle, only to have the head meet him halfway with teeth bared. Only a quick step backward prevented those teeth from finding their target. As it was, the sharp click left no doubt as to the sincerity of Assasssin's effort.
"Legolas, if you're through playing with him, we're waiting," Elrond prompted.
Sighing, the younger elf startled the stallion by grabbing a lead shank. Pulling it taut, Legolas stood on it. Momentarily perplexed, the stallion allowed the elf the moment of opportunity he needed to clamp his hands over the delicate nostrils once more. Assassint seemed to swell in anger before whipping his head sideways and sending the rope whistling out from under Legolas's boot. Rearing, the stallion struck at the elf, who leaped backward out of reach of those flashing hooves.
"That wasn't exactly satisfactory, but I still maintain I heard no crackles," Glorfindel stated firmly to Elrond, who didn't seem to have noticed the opening attack. "I think Assassin's doing quite well, all things considered."
"I think I heard something still, but if I did it is small. Let's see how he handles stressing his breathing. It's obvious he's feeling well enough to tolerate some exercise." Taking off the halter, Elrond threw it and the cumbersome lead shanks aside. "Lasgalen, get up and take him around, won't you?"
Assassin was still staring at Legolas, with a look filled with smoldering fury over the rude handling he'd just endured. 'Stay off,' said the animosity in that gaze.
"My lord, it might be better if you--"
"Get up on him," Elrond reiterated. "He won't do anything."
"He doesn't want me up there," Legolas dared. "He's yours. Only you can ride him."
"You've already ridden him once, and I'm asking him to carry you again."
"My Lord Elrond--"
"Get up there!" Elrond growled, fingers closing in irritation on a handful of mane and glowering at Legolas every bit as strongly as was Assassin himself. Glorfindel watched the exchange in gleeful silence from across the horse's back, as did the grooms hovering nearby.
"Yes, my lord," Legolas said obediently, obviously not meaning it.
"Sullen rider, sullen horse," Glorfindel observed quietly.
"Hush," admonished Elrond.
"Sullen horse owner, too," Glorfindel managed to get in the dig as Legolas came up beside him. The older Elf-lord made way with a slight bow.
Assassin had his own opinions of the situation. Left with an empty field and no one standing in his way any longer - not to mention an unwelcome stranger clearly preparing to mount - the stallion walked out. Once clear of the startled grop of elves who had leaned and poked and grabbed his nose, Assassin moved into an easy trot.
"Catch him."
"He's your horse, you catch him," Glorfindel counter-ordered
Growling softly in exasperation, Elrond whistled again. With head high and tail streaming out behind him, Assassin trotted a wide circle around the small group before turning and walking s-l-o-w-l-y, majestically in to stand quietly at his owner's shoulder.
[He has as much arrogance as the Elrond himself,] Legolas observed, keeping his expression carefully schooled to impassivity.
"Want some treats to keep him anchored?" asked Glorfindel.
"I do not. It's quite unnecessary." Elrond stood with a hand cradling Assassin's chin. "Lasgalen, mount him now. Sooner started, sooner done."
The grooms, Legolas noted, had retrieved the discarded tack and retreated safely to the far side of the fence beside the stable. 'Lasgalen is a good volunteer,' Legolas could see them thinking. 'Eat him. Better him than one of us.' Whether the stallion or Elrond himself would be the first to take out a chunk of this volunteered rider was subject to debate.
It also appeared that their raised voices were drawing a new audience as additional grooms and other servants wandered up to the paddock to find out what was going on. The impertinent scout from Mirkwood was arguing with Lord Elrond who wasn't sounding like a complacent ruler. Legolas could see the arched eyebrows, shocked looks, and wagging tongues from where he stood beside Assassin. Elves loved gossip, but this wasn't gossip; this was here and now and being played out before them, much to their great delight.
"We have a defiant elf?"
"Not only that, we have a defiant elf who has been ordered to ride Elrond's fearsome foundation sire."
"Ooooh, the show will be good, care to place a bet on the outcome?"
"I think the term 'riding' is highly optimistic. Wonder how long he'll last before he meets the grass?"
Heads were coning together, wagers were being placed, and Legolas was well aware of it all. Turning away from the gleeful audience behind him, he squared his shoulders and faced his foes.
"As you wish, Lord Elrond."
Legolas vaulted easily onto the stallion, only to see Assassin's ears go back and his neck arch. The back muscles beneath the elf tightened while Assassin's hind feet advanced two steps under his body.
[He's balancing to rear,] Legolas knew. Weaving both hands into the mane, he tried to sit up straight and looked down at Elrond, who still stood at the stallion's head.
"What do you want us to do?"
He got The Look for that, the one that said, 'You know damned well what I want you to do.' When the Elf-lord spoke, his low voice held a distinct warning for all its seeming patience.
"Track left and circle around us, please. I require two circles at a trot, two at a canter. I wish you to then change directions and do it again. Then return immediately to me."
Nodding, Legolas walked the stallion out in a generous circle around Elrond and Glorfindel. Glancing over, he dind't bother to mask his sullenness. [Assassin isn't and Elrond isn't, so why should I?] "Is this what you want, Lord Elrond?" he said cordially. "Is the diameter correct?"
He was rewarded with an imperious nod from Elrond and an outright grin from Glorfindel. Elrond waved his hand. "Send him on."
Legolas's first request to move into a trot got pinned ears and much tail swishing, but not much else.
[I'm losing patience with this myself,] the elf thought, well aware of the many eyes on him now. Daring to try a small, growly go-on, Legolas nudged gently with his knees and braced for the worst.
Assassin startled him by actually picking up to a trot in a long, lofty stride while maintaining the circle around Glorfindel and his master. Pleased despite his precarious situation, Legolas startled the horse into a canter, so that Assassin glided out in a long, flowing thing of grace before he could actually think about it.
[This isn't bad,] Legolas thought. [I'm not dying. And oh, he's lovely to ride.]
That was before the stallion's nose started sneaking toward the ground to signal, 'I'm going to buck.'
[You will not.] Yanking the mane, Legolas dropped back his weight and booted the stallion in his elbow. [Tampa! Stop that!]
Shaking his head, the stallion cantered sideways. *bounce* *bounce* *bounce*
[Tampa!] Legolas ordered again.
"Very good," Elrond called. "Change directions, please."
Legolas swore softly to himself to realize that he'd entirely forgotten the Lord of Imladris. Feeling somewhat sheepish to have become lost in a world of his own with the horse, Legolas guided Assassin directly across the circle to take them directly past Elrond and Glorfindel. Tracking closer, Assassin deliberately tried to shoulder Glorfindel on the way by. The elf from Gondolin leaped backward.
"Amin hiraetha," Legolas called an apology over his shoulder, "but what can I do?"
Glorfindel laughed and called back. "N'deta no'ta, don't worry about it. I saw you coming."
A snort from Legolas. A snort from the stallion who tried to lengthen his stride. Building up beneath Legolas, he began moving faster and faster. The elf decided to let him.
"I said two circles only," Elrond called after they'd completed five.
Gritting his teeth, Legolas stiffened his back, dropped back his weight, and closed his legs. Assassin ignored him. Legolas asked again. And again. Rather than slow his gait, the stallion's strides grew longer and faster with each moment to move from the quiet canter requested into a tail-flagging gallop in spite of all his rider could do to dissuade him. Legolas could almost feel the horse laughing at him.
[Fine.] He directed Assassin toward the nearest fence, with the intent to have him obey the barrier if he wouldn't obey his rider.
The long neck stretched, the muscles beneath Legolas bunched in anticipation. 'I'll jump it.'
Careful not to lean forward lest the horse stop abruptly and launch Legolas over his head, the elf whispered into the alert ears, "Elrond is waiting."
Reaching the fence, Assassin rolled smoothly back over his hocks. Switching directions in less than a heartbeat, he trotted serenely back to Elrond. It was then that Legolas noticed the blowing. The coughing began next -- a deep, rattling thing with the stallion dropping his head to his knees with each one.
Glancing at Elrond as they passed close by once more, Legolas asked, "Should we stop now?"
"Yes, I believe so."
Legolas halted the horse mere feet from Elrond, who patted his horse on the neck.
"I told you he'd be no trouble!" Elrond snapped before joining Glorfindel once more in listening to the horse's lungs.
Listening was an easier proposition this time, as much of Assassin's fight seemed to have been burned away by his short tear-away across the field. Pointed ears pressed against his ribs, and the two elven lords listened as the air whistled in and out of his lungs. A more sober look was exchanged between Glorfindel and Elrond as they stepped back to watch Assassin for a moment as he coughed and snorted.
The coughing fit finally eased, with Glorfindel circling Assassin to stand with Elrond.
"He still has enough wind to be comfortable," Glorfindel ventured, "but there's also enough damage that he cannot be used on any sort of a journey."
"I agree." Elrond's eyes filled with sadness at the damage his foundation sire would likely carry for the rest of his days.
The horse, however, was still filled with pride and temper and dislike at being poked and prodded in such a rude and familiar manner. Stomping, Assassin turned his head to snap at Legolas's foot, which the elf jerked away just as Elrond looked back.
"Return him to his stall, please." Turning away once again to wander a few paces with Glorfindel, Elrond said, "Assassin can be bred but little else, I think. The season is coming, what do you think of simply turning him out with the mares?"
Legolas obediently turned the horse toward the stable and nudged him into motion as the stallion no longer seemed so inclined to move out. Assassin walked sullenly, reluctantly, with ears pinned and gave one swift snap at his rider's foot once more. He was cooperative, but only marginally so, and he was letting Legolas know all about his current resentments.
The minute his master's back was turned, however, resentment turned into action as Assassin braced his hind feet, stiffened his back, and gave one almost stationery buck. Legolas, who had relaxed and was eavesdropping on the two elves' conversation, found that still having his hands buried in the horse's mane did little to save him when he wasn't anticipating the move.
The elf was tossed forward without warning to sail over the horse's shoulder. Only his hands in the mane changed the direction of Legolas's flight and allowed him to land squarely on his feet, startled to find himself eye to eye with the irritable beast.
The stallion glared at Legolas, who glared right back.
"Fine, my lord stallion," Legolas hissed softly to the horse. "Do as you will. It was never my wish to ride you, so I'll leave you to your mares and to your master. Our master."
Turning, Legolas stomped off. Behind him, Glorfindel sniggered softly.
Elrond spun around to see Legolas head off across the field while Assassin took two hesitant, almost bewildered steps to follow him. The horse stopped almost immediately, head held high while he regarded the retreating elf. Snorting loudly, Assassin whirled and trotted off to flirt at the fence with a group of mares come to watch his magnificence.
[It's too early, big one,] they seemed to say, milling around and wandering off as they lost interest. [We still have babies, you must talk to us after they're born. Yes, we know who you are and you're a fine stallion, but it's far too early...]
"I thought I told Lasgalen to take my horse into the stable," Elrond commented irritably and staring after Legolas much as had Assassin. "Where is he off to, and why has he just left Assassin that way?"
"Your stallkon had other ideas, Elrond."
Elrond shook his head. "Assassin is weary and needs to go inside. I thought Lasgalen to be more reliable with horses than that."
A gesture from the Lord of Imladris, and two of the grooms stepped forward with evident reluctance, though whether to face the ill-tempered horse or his equally ill-tempered master was not clear.
"My lord?" one elf questioned respectfully.
"Catch Assassin, take him back," he ordered, flicking one hand toward the strutting stallion. Fully expecting the order to be obeyed, Elrond turned to follow Legolas.
Glorfindel stopped him with a hand on his arm. "You are feeling cruel today, aren't you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You just told those grooms to go and catch your stallion."
"Yes. I did. What of it? It's their job."
"These poor, inferior beings are to drag the Magnificent One away from his mares and not kill themselves in the process?"
Elrond looked back to see that not one groom had moved away from the fence. "My horse is not dangerous!"
"Go catch your own horse, Elrond," Glorfindel admonished. "You know where your other young stallion will be, so you can catch him later. Unlike Assassin, Lasgalen isn't likely to kill anyone other than yourself who lays hands on him."
Drawing himself up to his full height, Elrond rocked back and stared down his nose at his friend and most trusted advisor. Whistling softly, Elrond was still staring at Glorfindel when Assassin trotted willingly away from the fence and over to him.
"I don't see any problem," Elrond murmured, retrieving the halter and a single lead shank from the groom who dared to answer the elf-lord's unspoken order when Elrond held out his hand.
"That is too disgusting," said Glorfindel.
Slipping on the halter, Elrond handed the shank to Glorfindel. "There you are. If you are so worried as to the welfare of our grooms, you can take Assassin in yourself."
Glorfindel gingerly took the shank in time for Assassin to wipe horse-snot up his arm. Sighing, he said, "You really should have named this one Balrog. Come on, evil one. There's feed and hay waiting in your stall."
One of the grooms appeared in the doorway to the stable, shaking a bucket that was sure to contain grain. Predictably, Assassin's ears flicked forward and his stride lengthened as he headed toward the unexpected meal being so generously offered inside.
[That groom must like Glorfindel,] Elrond noted.
Elrond watched as his friend led the horse off and smiled to see that the lead shank was always slack.
"You know," said Glorfindel, daring to throw a companionable arm across the horse's withers, "It's not often anyone is always one step ahead of me. Still, you seem to manage it."
Elrond had the wisdom to wait until horse and elf-lord had disappeared inside the barn before heading with all haste after Legolas who had already disappeared from the field for parts unknown.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The last candle in the library of Imladris sputtered out behind the Elf-lord, wrapping him darkness, but Elrond paid it no heed. He'd spent half of the day searching for the elf he wished to see, yet Legolas was far out of reach this night. Scowling into the shadows, Elrond had the unpleasant realization that his Prince of Mirkwood could well have been watching and laughing silently over Elrond's failure to locate him.
[That thought improves my mood not at all,] Elrond snarled to himself.
Abandoning the search in the early evening, Elrond had waited for Legolas to appear at evening meal, but the elf apparently had other plans. [He'd rather starve than encounter me, obviously.] Long fingers dug into the wooden arms of his chair, and Elrond slouched even lower. [Why does this not surprise me?]
Elrond could have ordered his guard to search for the elf in question. He could have ordered, 'Find Lasgalen but do not disturb him. Bring word to me of where he is.' Eventually Legolas would have been found, but Elrond's pride would not allow such a thing. More than that, the searchers could not have passed unnoticed by so skilled a warrior, no matter how hard they might try. Hard on the heels of that realization came the knowledge that to set his guards on Legolas would have been to damage the friendship that had begun between them.
[My prince wishes to be alone, so alone he shall be until he deems otherwise,] Elrond reflected, rubbing the bridge of his nose. [He has had enough of jailers, and I refuse to be considered yet another.]
Stiff muscles protested as he rose from the chair. Pacing to a small table, he poured a goblet of wine and moved to the balcony, but the wine remaining untasted and all but forgotten in his hand while his gaze searched the darkness once more. The night air was still and snow was once again falling in huge flakes over Imladris. Beautiful, or it would have been had Elrond's elf not preferred to linger somewhere in that cold.
Hearing soft footfalls on the hardwood floor of the library behind him, Elrond didn't bother to turn, for it was Glorfindel come to join him rather than the Mirkwood elf he would have welcomed.
"Another storm is upon us," the legendary warrior of Gondolin began, helping himself to some wine. "I believe I've seen more snow and ice upon our fair fields since Legolas came than I have in all the years since I returned to Middle-earth."
Coming to join Elrond at the railing, Glorfindel eyed the first finger of the Elf-lord's right hand: regardless no ring of power was visible, the older elf knew it was there. "In the past you delighted in using Vilya's power to make mild Imladris's weather," he murmured, "an effort those of cold toes applauded, I might add. Have you forgotten how to do that?"
Elrond spared Glorfindel an annoyed glance before turning back to the snowflakes. "I have been somewhat distracted as of late."
"Distracted, is it?"
"Yes. Distracted. With the fire and the horses and completing communications with Thranduil. Those things have taken a great deal of my attention, there's hardly been a moment for me to concentrate on what the clouds and the snow are doing."
"I see," came the reply. Setting his goblet upon the balcony railing, Glorfindel put out an arm to catch snowflakes upon his wrist and watch them melt. "Amazing, isn't it, how frosted ice will reveal that no two of these are alike? What a marvelous world we live in, when the Iluvatar has created each of us -- even Lords of Imladris and Princes of Mirkwood -- as unique as snowflakes."
Grey eyes narrowed, and Elrond rounded on his friend. "I have no patience tonight for riddles. What exactly are you trying to say to me?"
"Nothing," the Elf-lord said mildly, "except that your quest to catch the fair snowflake following you about lately seems to have proven fruitless."
"Legolas is hardly a delicate snowflake. And he does not wish to be found."
"Again? Elusive soul, isn't he? And why might he prefer the snow and wind to your company tonight? I thought you were coming to quite enjoy each other's company."
"Our last private conversation was a bit unpleasant."
"Unpleasant?" Glorfindel prodded. Snowflakes peppered his hair now, were doing the same to Elrond's. "That's an interesting word to choose. It's not because Assassin tipped him on the ground today is it?"
"No, nothing so petty as that." Frowning, Elrond watched a flake land in his wine where it floated for a moment before vanishing.
"Then what manner of conversation could send him off into the shadows? Legolas does not strike me as the sort to flounce off, offended over trifles as would Arwen, so there must be more to tell, yes?"
"He wishes to journey into Dol Guldur, while I wish him to remain safe here," Elrond explained. "We had a clash of wills before meeting you to work with Assassin."
"There is some distance between those two courses of action," Glorfindel agreed. "How was this clash of wills resolved?"
"I demonstrated to Legolas that while I had the power to keep him safe at home in Imladris, I would send him to the Dark Lord's stronghold as he wished, with the caveat that he be accompanied by yourself, Mithrandir and my sons. Legolas is to teach you exactly how he sneaks in and out of that place, and you will take this task from this point onward. I will not risk my elf by letting him go another time."
"Your elf is he now?" Glorfindel nodded sagely. "Risking me seems a reasonable enough compromise. I do thank you for including me in this exciting little journey. When were you going to share this news with me?"
Grasping the railing so hard that the whites of his knuckles showed, Elrond glanced across at Glorfindel. Uncertain whether sincerity or sarcasm ruled his friend's last remark, Elrond decided that he didn't care either way and returned to scowling at the night. "I would think it a reasonable compromise, but Legolas appears to think otherwise. I set certain conditions upon his going, and now he's behaving like a youngling defying his father, every inch the nasty little prince we'd dreaded receiving originally, locked in the sulks and avoiding me. This is our first clash of wills, I think."
Glorfindel leaned back against the railing and grinned. "Yes, but who's winning?"
Straightening, Elrond snapped, "Legolas will yield to me as did Assassin, or he will suffer the consequences. Better that he find out this now, rather than after we bond."
"The consequences?" Glorfindel pounced upon the word, clearly intrigued. "So there are to be consequences now?"
"He is, after all, very young," said Elrond, ignoring his companion. "Not immature precisely, but very young."
"What consequences did you threaten, Elrond?"
"Hmm? What?"
"You said that your beautiful elf will yield to you or suffer the consequences. What consequences might those be, other than his depriving you of his company and obviously upsetting you? And may I remind you that Assassin has yet to yield to you unless by his own choice?"
"Legolas will yield," Elrond insisted. "It is for his protection that I do this."
"I know your temper, Peredhil," Glorfindel goaded. "What did you threaten?"
"I reminded Legolas that I had only to command it, and he would never set foot outside this house, much less journey beyond Imladris's borders. What's more, he wouldn't want to."
"So you threatened to control him not only physically, but mentally?"
"I didn't threaten, precisely--"
"You just said that you did."
"A poor choice of words. I made it clear that should I wish it, I had the power to do so."
"Sounds like a threat to me." Giving a sigh, Glorfindel stepped closer to Elrond. "Surely you know that threats won't work on one as spirited and intelligent as your prince from Mirkwood? Not only that, if Legolas is near enough to hear our words this night, your continued fierceness will not convince him it's time to come home." Laying a hand on the Elf-lord's shoulder, Glorfindel urged, "Don't make this more than it is, Elrond. You're both sulking, that's all."
"*Legolas* is sulking. I am being perfectly reasonable. And you are melting the snow on my shoulder."
Glorfindel chuckled as he batted at the snow still clinging to Elrond's robes. "As I am much older than either of you, I think you are a very young elf as well, my lord, for you sit sulking in your library rather than hiding out in the storm. That is the only difference I can between your behavior and Legolas's."
Elrond drew his eyebrows together over a truly fierce glare. "I am not sulking," he growled.
Glorfindel laughed outright, which only made the Lord of Imladris glower all the harder. "Whatever happened between you and Legolas, both of you met me today all mood and crunch. The grooms were reluctant to come out as much due to your temper as Assassin's." He shook his head. "The rest of Imladris may be used to your bluster and stormy moods, but Legolas is not. Everyone else says 'yes-my-lord' and knows to get out of your way when you're like this, that the mood will pass in its own time with no one the worse for it. It's not that we agree with you, Elrond, we relocate so as not to become targets. That is precisely what Legolas has done, though I don't think he understands that you aren't a serious menace. Can't say that I blame him for staying away, actually. There's no reasoning with you when you're like this."
Staring stonily at Glorfindel, Elrond visibly pondered the older elf's words. Shoulders sagging in the next moment, his gaze grew worried. "As ever, you speak the truth. My mood softened immediately after I left you and Assassin, but an afternoon of not finding Legolas has brought back my...crunchiness, I think you would call it."
Looking down at the snow accumulating on the balcony at his feet, he scuffed at the icy matter with his toe. "I would call him back inside if I could and try to explain myself more clearly, but I have given up trying to locate him."
"If you would just sit down and thing for a moment, put yourself in his position, you'd know where to find him," Glorfindel admonished. "He's a wood-elf, remember? But even if you do locate him, I'd advise against trying to talk to him if you're just going to threaten him again with imprisonment."
Elrond nodded. "I'm little better than his father if I do that."
"What?"
"Never mind," Elrond hedged, not wanting anyone else to know of Thranduil's betrayal. "And so, Glorfindel, where do you think I would be if I were a wood-elf desiring to evade me on a stormy winter's night?"
Glorfindel grinned before heading back inside the library. "Were it me, I'd be looking for the warmest tree in Imladris tonight."
* * *
The old oak tree was huge, set against the cliff wall behind the burned-out stable on the furthermost edge of Imladris. It offered comfort and cradling to the Mirkwood elf hiding in its heart, surrounded by silence that was marred only by the hissing of snow falling around them. Both comfort and silence were shattered when Legolas heard someone coming at him through the surrounding forest, muffled footsteps squeaking in the new-fallen snow. Sitting up, he peered between snow-laden branches to see the Lord of Imladris come to stand at the base of the tree and stare straight up at him.
Legolas's immediate instinct was to shrink back, but Elrond had already seen him so that cowering back against the tree was undignified as well as pointless. He expected to be ordered down immediately, to face another lecture which would no doubt include another refusal to be allowed to go to Dol Guldur. No doubt he would be hauled back to Elrond's rooms like a recalcitrant child.
[I can always just leap over his head and be off again,] Legolas pondered when the Elf-lord did not speak. [I've greatly displeased him this day and proven just how rebellious I am, so he's certain to make good his threat and lock me away.]
They remained as they were for a long moment while snowflakes made Elrond blink more rapidly and Legolas wished he would just go away.
"May I come up?" Elrond finally asked, so quietly that his words were all but lost to the night.
[No,] was Legolas's immediate, silent response. [But it's his tree, he can climb it if he wishes.] Unable to frame the response manners dictated, Legolas settled for nodding and pushed back from the edge. Climbing a bit higher, he perched on a sturdy upper branch which made room for Elrond's larger frame in the heart of the old oak.
[Please don't let him fall and add to my list of transgressions this day?] he silently asked of the tree.
To his surprise, the older elf could climb better than Legolas had thought, though admittedly not as well as one born to the once-bright Mirkwood forest. The branches may not have parted as willingly for Elrond as they did for Legolas, but the tree would cradle and protect him just as it did Legolas.
[He has tended me and my forebears all of my days,] the tree revealed in images rather than words, with gratitude and humility vibrating in its leaves. [I welcome the chance to protect him as he has protected me.]
Images of fire danced through Legolas's mind, and he sensed the tree's heart tremble. [The flames didn't reach here, my friend. Be at peace.]
[He stopped them before they could,] said the tree.
While Elrond settled only a few feet away from him, Legolas was startled to realize he had never seen Elrond out of robes. Tonight, the Elf-lord wore a set of gray leggings, high black boots and a soft-looking gray overtunic that was molded so tightly against him it outlined every muscle in the barrel chest and strong-muscled back. [Did he change clothes just to come look for me? I didn't know he owned such clothing, let alone made use of it.]
The snow continued to fall, the night wore on, and for a long time Elrond sat in silence with his eyes closed and his head propped against the the tree's trunk. When the elf-lord hadn't found him that day, Legolas had had some small hope of passing a solitary night, to give his anger time to cool and to thrust aside new feelings of entrapment here in this realm. That hope was now shattered, and so it was that Legolas resisted the urge to leap down from the tree in search of another private sanctuary.
[Wouldn't do any good,] he reflected, [he'd just track me there as well. There is nothing I can do in Imladris but submit to Lord Elrond's will, regardless the subject.]
Leaving off worrying his bottom lip, Legolas tried to school his features into immobility in preparation for when the Elf-lord finally opened his eyes. [What is he thinking? And why is he here? I only wish I dared ask aloud.] The snow had stopped falling and the night was late, shrouded in serenity, when Legolas heard someone speak. Someone who was not Elrond.
Sitting up, the older elf locked his gaze into Legolas's and whispered, "I know that voice."
Motioning, Elrond urged Legolas to slip down beside him, the better to lean over the edge of the trunk and eavesdrop on the two men who had come to stand at its base.
"I don't like this, Einar," growled the first intruder, stamping his feet and slapping his arms against himself in an effort to get warm. "It's too cold for your sneakin' an' games tonight."
"Ain't games," said the second man. "One of us has t'see to the job at hand, and you can't think no better than a coney."
"Then let's light a fire while we talk. Leastaways I could be warm while ya insult me."
"You ain't lighting no more fires, Jacoby," the other man growled, sucking on his pipe. "You made a proper mess of the last one, near burnt up the whole place and every horse with it."
"I only--"
"You only near ruint everything. Near burnt me up too, ya half-wit. An' then that elf damn near run over me trying to get in there. You were supposed to create a diversion so I could steal a yearling filly, remember? The whole place wasn't s'posed to go up, you idiot."
"How was I to know it would spread so fast?" Jacoby growled. "You got a better plan, let's hear it. We can't stay here all winter. We've already overstayed our welcome, some of those Elves are starting to look at me funny."
"They're lookin' at me funny, too. They look at everyone funny. Strange folk, the lot of 'em."
"So whadda you want to do? We're runnin' out of time and I don't wanna get caught."
"Next time it snows, we let out the mares--"
"ALL of 'em?"
"Yeah, all of 'em. We drive 'em into the woods, pick one off at our leisure, and climb out of here while they're off lookin' for all the others. They'll never miss just the one, and if they do they'll think she's lost."
"We should get a grown one, not one a' them babies," Jacoby agreed, enthusiasm rising. "An' get a fat one that's already carryin' another one. And one we could ride home, aye?"
"Aye, let's. But only one, mind? We'll have to trade off ridin' back."
Legolas dared to turn his head and meet Elrond's gaze, his own eyes filled with horror at the sickening knowledge just gained.
"All of our friends, lost to greed," Elrond murmured beside him, so quietly no mortal could have hoped to hear a word.
"Where did these men come from?" Legolas whispered.
"My sons found them lost and freezing in the outer woods not three months ago. They were brought in kindness to Imladris and made welcome among us as they healed." The Elf-lord's words were quiet, but when he set his hand upon the younger elf's shoulder, Legolas could feel Elrond vibrating with rage. "Would that we were armed and could deal with this ourselves, this night."
Reaching for the sheath at his shoulders, Legolas withdrew one of his long-knives and set it in Elrond's hand. "I have another and a dagger as well if you wish use both knives."
"One is fine for my purposes."
"I'll take Einer, the one with the pipe," Legolas suggested, half-rising to leap from the tree.
"Agreed." The smile Elrond flashed was grim and cold. Rising up, he dropped silently to the ground on the far side of the tree from the men. He pivoted left as Legolas landed quietly beside him, long-knife in hand as he moved stealthily to the right.
Attacking in tandem, the two Elves finished the fight before it had time to begin. The pipe fell to the forest floor and went out after Legolas shoved his knife at Einer's back, targeting a kidney. Long fingers wrapped around the man's throat.
"Struggle, and I'll break your neck," Legolas growled. "But feel free to struggle if you really want to. I won't mind."
Long white fingers tightened around the grizzled man's throat as Einer wheezed and gulped under the restraint. He did not, however, struggle. Looking across, Legolas saw that Elrond stood with one arm wrapped around Jacoby's torso, with a long knife set against the man's throat.
"Walk," the Elf-lord growled, shoving Jacoby forward and jarring him into the blade so that a thin red line of blood appeared just below his jaw.
"Where?" the man sniveled.
"To the stables."
The journey took thrice as long as it should have, with the two shivering men stumbling on their way, passively trying to interfere with their captivity. In the end, Legolas was forced to draw blood at Einer's back; a superficial wound, it nonetheless dampened the man's jerkin and made him shiver, though whether from chill or fear was debatable. At last, they entered the deserted stable where Elrond lined them up against Assassin's stall wall and told them not to move as the horse stallion came out of the shadows to inspect them.
The two cringed away from the stallion, but it took only one snap of mighty teeth to persuade them that standing still was the best option available. While Assassin watched, swords and daggers were collected and thrown into a heap, and Legolas tied their hands.
"Don't cut the rope," Elrond ordered, tethering the men together. "We'll need two horses."
The horses, Legolas learned, were for himself and Elrond only. They chose carefully reliable geldings that he knew had escaped the fire, two who were battle-ready and well-able to run down two mortal men if they should try to escape. Elrond did not offer to bind the men's wounds before vaulting onto his mount's back and taking the rope Legolas offered.
Teeth chattering out of fear, the men stumbled behind Elrond's mount as the Elf-lord headed out over the mostly empty fields, across the river and up the slippery slope leading out of the sheltered valley of Imladris. Riding in silence at the rear, Legolas guarded against any attempts to escape.
The men were whimpering and stumbling, already cold past their endurance as they reached the top of the cliffs. Legolas watched their fate unfold over the next hour, after Elrond had gained Imladris's borders only to travel another twisting couple of leagues.
"A little further," ordered Elrond.
Finally calling a halt to the excruciating march, Elrond turned his mount to confront the two men. While Legolas knew where they were, he suspected that the men were lost once again.
"Take off your cloaks," the Elf-lord ordered mildly. Legolas slipped down from his horse, the better to guard.
The men did as they were told, dropping the apparel where they stood.
"Burn the cloaks, Legolas," Elrond ordered again, still mounted and holding the mens' tether.
"No!" Jacoby protested, whirling and diving for his cloak.
"Make sure the wood is wet. Let it smoke," Elrond ordered further, ignoring the man's outburst.
Startled, Legolas met Elrond's cold grey eyes before bowing his head and nodding. "As you wish, m'lord."
"You can't just leave us out here!" Einer protested as Legolas set about making the fire and took Jacoby's cloak from his cold, reluctant grasp.
"Leave you as you left my horses to burn?" Elrond asked. "On the contrary, I can and I will. A choice is set before you: you may huddle at your small fire until morning and some warmth returns to our world, and hope that the smoke does not attract hungry orcs to find you in the night. Or you can walk in the cold woods and try to scout a path that will lead you into some Ranger's camp or to a road traveled by men who will take pity on you and return you to your own world."
"'At's leagues away!" Einer protested. "It's clear that you mean t'freeze us out here."
"I am doing nothing to you!" Elrond snapped, circling his gray gelding closer to the two men.
Jacoby had begun weeping, Legolas noted with only casual interest.
"I am actually being quite restrained, as my first desire was to avenge the cruel and painful deaths of my gentle horses by merely cutting your throats," Elrond growled over them. "Elves, however, are above such random barbaric acts as men favor, and so I will give you a chance to survive. You'll admit it's a better chance than you gave my horses when you consigned them terror, flame and--"
Elrond broke off abruptly, his broad hand clenched on the long-knife as he fought to suppress his anger to more manageable levels. Sensing his fury and agitation, the gelding danced beneath him.
"I have returned you to where you were found by my sons," Elrond continued finally, in a soft voice that held no gentleness and no compassion. "I leave you in the same condition as when you were last here. As I recall, you had no provisions, no cloaks, only the clothing you stood in."
The Elf lord's gaze raked over them once more, then he sighed. "I will let you keep the boots, as yours were ruined by the time you arrived in Imladris. All in all, I think it is a far better fate than the one you visited upon my friends, isn't it?"
Poking at the sullen, smoky fire he'd started, Legolas knew that the boots had been made for feet that did not mind the cold.
Elrond continued mildly. "Live or die, I care not. If you live, I would advise you to never set foot inside Imladris again unless you wish for death. Perhaps you will stumble upon a way out of here. Perhaps, between the two of you, you possess the skills to survive the cold. Perhaps you will indeed freeze to death or be eaten before morning. But you are getting a better chance at survival than the one left to my horses."
Abandoning the rope as he abandoned the men, Elrond turned his horse. "Come, Lasgalen."
Vaulting onto his horse, Legolas ignored the pleas for clemency that faded as they rode away. Legolas didn't bother looking back. The two rode in silence until, well on their way back to Imladris, Legolas glanced over to see that Elrond was trembling with fury.
In his mind, Legolas recalled Mithrandir's words of only a few weeks before: 'Elrond will not send you to anything so simple as a dungeon if you make him miserable. There are no dungeons in Imladris...You would not escape him so easily, nor would your torment be as brief as six weeks. He would...make you more miserable than you could ever imagine being.'
[This is what he was talking about,] Legolas realized. [This is what the Lord of Imladris is like when his wrath is roused. I don't think he's yet been angry with me, for I have never hurt him or those he loves. Elbereth willing, I never will. My request to visit Dol Guldur did not command his wrath, it elicited another reaction from him. But what reaction? Possessiveness, perhaps?]
Riding behind Elrond as they descended back into Imladris, Legolas continued thinking. [I don't understand this, ] he finally concluded with some exasperation. [I do know that he should not be left alone this night. The flames are before my eyes and the screams of his horses still ring in my ears; I know he hears them as well.]
They returned the horses to the stable, where a silent, drawn Elrond helped Legolas settle them for what remained of the night and gave a slight bow when he returned the younger elf's long-knife to him. Legolas then followed Elrond across the field and into the main house, up the stairs and into his private rooms.
Not seeming to notice his companion, Elrond went lean a hand against the fireplace and stare dolefully into its flames. Retreating to the shadows of the otherwise darkened room, Legolas considered what might be needed.
"Is there anything I can do to help, Lord Elrond?"
Elrond shook his head. "There is nothing for this pain, Legolas. You cannot bring back my friends who were lost... and for what? Because two greedy men coveted a Perendhil yearling or mare to strengthen whatever pitiful herd they possessed?"
Bowing his head, Elrond rubbed at his eyes. "They had but to ask, and Elven generosity would have given them both. They would have been taught how to train the yearling, how to make a lifelong companion of the mare so that she carried them willingly as protected their mates and children to the end of her days. Her get would have taken care of them as well, unto the tenth generation. But they did not ask and so because of their clumsy greed our friends are gone. Gone to flame and sword and pain and terror--"
Elrond's voice choked off. He fell back into his chair before the fire, his gaze once again focused on the flames - tamed brothers of those who had roared, destroyed and devoured so much that night.
Coming cautiously forward, Legolas sank down to sit beside the Elrond's chair, reached out to lay a hand against the Elf-lord's face and sweep away his tears with the back of warming fingers.
"So much pain," Elrond whispered, staring down at Legolas. "So much loss. And now, I fear that I will lose you as well."
"Lose me?" This leap startled and confused Legolas. "But...I am here."
"I fear losing you to the wraiths and the darkness that is Dol Guldur. It fills me with horror to think of you trapped in the fear and darkness of that place. And yet, I must let you go."
Long fingers wrapped around Legolas's wrist and caressed gently where before their touch had threatened to break bone. Elrond's eyes were black in the firelight, haunted with what might be.
"I must go," Legolas murmured quietly. It hurt, having to lay more pain upon Elrond this night, but the answer was the same as it had been a day earlier, though Legolas realized he was far less eager now to pursue this fight.
"Yes, you must go," Elrond agreed, "or others will die. But mine is the gift of foresight. Be it blessing or curse, I know that something will happen, and I fear that you will not return to me." Elrond's tears had stopped, all of his wrath seemed to have melted away to leave only an obvious, aching sorrow.
Stroking a hand down the raven-black hair, Legolas momentarily considered matters, then cocked his head and dared to ask, "Was it fear that drove you yesterday then, when we talked of my going to Dol Guldur?"
"Yes." Barely a whisper, with dark eyes pleading for understanding. "I do not wish to cage you, Legolas. I would only keep you safe, yet I cannot. You will not let me."
"I will be safe," Legolas assured, still stroking down that hair much as he would have stroked a horse's mane. Elrond had not yet objected to the touch, and he hoped it offered some comfort. "I promise this."
"You cannot offer such a promise," Elrond replied, hints of something darker creeping in his voice, something of sadness and almost resignation. "And I dread what I have seen. I care about you, Legolas. I would not lose you."
"I cannot remember anyone caring about me in the past, except perhaps Mithrandir."
Elrond summoned the ghost of a smile. "A foolish oversight, my prince."
"Mithrandir voiced no objections to my going. He knows what I am capable of, and I have been inside the Dark Lord's fortress before."
"Be that as it may, things happen. There are events we cannot control, and you+ cannot control what transpires within that dark place." Elrond sighed sadly and turned to look down upon the slender elf beside him. "Truly, tonight I feel very little is actually within my control. I would not have you go, but you must go and so I will let you go. But nothing will induce me to be at ease with your going."
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Elrond reached out to caress one long, golden braid and ran it between his fingers. "With you, I send my sons who possess other parts of my heart. I send also the wise wizard Mithrandir and Glorfindel whose powers are not inconsequential. These will protect and watch over you, regardless you think you do not need such protection."
Legolas pressed his cheek against the Elf-lord's hand and leaned in to increase the caress as might a cat. "I would not have you risk so much. I would not have any of them injured or lost because of my efforts."
"Then best you take care to come back to me safely," Elrond said gruffly. Legolas could hear the affection behind the gruffness now and did not pull away. "If you return, they will be safe as well. And they will bring you back safely to me as well."
"If it will bring you ease, then I will welcome their protection. And yours."
"I hope so, my prince."
Warm fingers opened to release the braid only to caress beneath Legolas's ear. He shivered, enjoying the touch and surprised even as he drew comfort from the simple intimacy. Closing his eyes, he leaned against Elrond and enjoyed the small touches -- touches Legolas was certain offered their own reassurance to the Elf-lord simply because they were allowed. Meeting Elrond's gaze once more, Legolas nodded as the final pieces of the clicked into place in his own mind.
"I think that I finally understand you," he offered hesitantly.
"And what is it that you understand?"
"Rather than caging me as you seemed to threaten yesterday, you will ignore your wishes and your fears and set me free to do what must be done."
"Yes," Elrond whispered. "I have lost too many that I love, Legolas. Elbereth grant that you are not the next one lost to me, that you return safe home to me."
"I will." Nodding, Legolas shifted around so that he could stare into the fire and lean against Elrond's thigh. Long fingers sifted again and again through his hair.
When Legolas did not object or move away, Elrond dared to unfasten the braids at the sides and the leather thong at the back so that the hair flowed freely through his fingers like rivers of light. Almost shyly, Legolas wound his arms around Elrond's calf. Laying his cheek against the strong thigh, he allowed the contact and the caresses and basked in the warmth of the fire and Elrond's protectiveness.
