wild

child

CHAPTER ONE

"Mithrandir, why do you inflict these situations upon me? Can't you manage something simple, just once?"

I watched as the wizard's grey eyebrows rose in exaggerated surprise. "The situation is exceedingly simple to me, Lord Elrond. What do you feel is complicated about it?"

I fingered the rim of the half-empty wine goblet I held, shook my head, and glowered at the pile of books on my desk. I would have glowered at Mithrandir, but etiquette demanded that I restrain myself. Stifling a growl, I tried to slouch lower in my chair, but that was an impossible task as my knees had already fetched up against the back wall of the desk.

Over the past eight months most of the citizens of Imladris had gotten used to having young Prince Legolas of Mirkwood living among us, had grown accustomed to the presence of the wizard's little shadow. We had discovered that the child was far from normal, but he was gradually releasing his patterns of wariness and silence. As a result, his behavior was becoming a bit more that of a normal child of his age. Now, just as things seemed to be settling into a peaceful pattern within our small sanctuary, Mithrandir had all but announced that he planned to neatly deposit the half-wild creature in my watch-care and leave.

I had battled Sauron's army on the slopes of Mount Orodruin, and I was the lord of Imladris with all its inherent stresses and difficulties. I wielded Vilya, a great ring of power and was not incapable of competent leadership. Yet the thought of caring for one tiny elf now filled me with great anxiety.

"I do not like this," I murmured. "Your elfing will not like it, either."

"He already does not like it," Mithrandir said quietly. "Last night, I patiently and repeatedly explained to Legolas that I must resume the travels interrupted by our meeting in Mirkwood and by our coming here. He said that he understood, but..." The wizard shrugged helplessly.

"I imagine the child understands only that his friend and guardian is leaving him in the company of strangers."

"It is not merely that which upsets him," the wizard informed me. "The thought of my traveling alone seems to fill Legolas with a panic that I am ill-prepared to calm. He seems to believe that unless he is with me, I will fall victim to spiders, orcs or wolves."

"Unless he is with you?" I tried to puzzle this out, but in vain. "Why would it help to have such a youngling with you?"

"Legolas has some notion of defending me."

"That idea is ridiculous," I observed, perhaps more harshly than I should have. "He is only a child, with no defense capabilities at all. The past eight months have shown us that Legolas's spirit is strong and resilient, but spirit alone is no defense against the evils beyond our sanctuary's borders. Surely he understands this."

Mithrandir sighed and glanced away. "As always, you speak the truth."

I studied the wizard for a long moment, noting the reluctant bend of the shoulders and the pensive shadows in the sad blue eyes as he puffed on his pipe and stared out into the night. Here I was, berating him when he didn't want to leave his charge any more than I wanted him to. Schooling my voice to gentleness, I asked, "You cannot delay this meeting with Radagast?"

"I've tarried in Imladris far too long as it is. For Legolas's sake, I would tarry another threescore years and see him into adulthood. But neither the shadows growing beyond your borders nor the White Council will wait that long. I came to Middle-earth for a solemn purpose, and that purpose must be served before all else. I also find myself strangely reluctant to reveal Legolas and his situation to the council."

"I see." I even understood, given some members of the White Council's propensity to manipute and judge.

Pushing out of my chair, I gained my feet and paced past the iron-black candle-stands and out onto the balcony. Setting my goblet on the railing, I surveyed the pale blue lights dancing across the river. Peaceful lives went on behind those lights -- lives of the elves I was sworn to protect, citizens of Imladris whose world I was determined to preserve, no matter what the Dark Lord might plan or do.

Legolas was one of my citizens now, a child I knew as small, fragile, and damaged. With or without Mithrandir in residence, as Lord of Imladris I was ultimately responsible for the child. I accepted that responsibility the night of his arrival, though I had no desire to fulfill it alone. I was more than willing to do whatever might be required to heal the hurts that Legolas's father, King Thranduil, had inflicted, but I knew my limitations. I thought also that I knew Legolas's limitations; those stormy blue eyes could be very expressive when turned my way.

My irritation at Mithrandir's looming departure was borne of fear: fear that Legolas could heal only under the wizard's gentle care. Fear that I might not know how to unlock the child's wary heart or earn his trust in any lasting way. Fear that I would never be able to do more for him than carefully offer him another piece of honeyed bread or plateful of apples beneath a table.

"I knew this was coming, you know?" I murmured as the wizard stepped up beside me.

"Knew that what was coming?" he asked, startled from his morose study of his pipe smoke.

"That you would wish to leave Legolas in my care during your absence. Or shall we say your absences, as we both know that they will be continuous and long throughout Legolas's childhood?"

Mithrandir rocked back. "I would not have you believing that I brought Legolas here specifically to be raised by you."

"I suspect that you were given little choice, Master Wizard. You could have carried your elf to Lothlorian, but we both know that neither Galadriel or Celeborn have the time or the patience to look after such a... strange and deeply injured child as is Legolas. Not to mention the mutual animosity between Thranduil and Galadriel that is known to us all. I would hope such animosity would not carry over to interactions with one so young as Legolas, but the possibility must still be considered. If the child is to remain here, I suppose that others within Imladris might be delegated to look after him, but whom could we truly trust with such a task? You will be gone for decades over the next century, and Legolas requires consistent, experienced attention if he is to grow up secure in the knowledge that is needed to survive in our world. Which brings me to my main concern: what, exactly, do you wish me to do with him?"

Mithrandir chuckled. "You have raised three children to adulthood and ask me that?"

"Elves simply do not treat their children as this one has been mishandled," I pointed out. "I have no experience with this sort of abuse, and Legolas is like no other child I have ever known."

I didn't mean to sound as sharp as I did, but the truth was inescapable; I had no real understanding of which way the child would jump in any given situation. That left me at a great disadvantage, not to mention more than a little anxious around him.

"That's certainly true," Mithrandir agreed. "All right, then. I trust you to raise Legolas as a citizen of Imladris should be raised, and who better to do so? For now, however..." The wizard pondered for a moment. "What things have you in common with him?"

"From what I can see, only horses and stories."

It was an easy enough question to answer: the former always had Legolas's undivided attention, and I got it as well whenever I told stories of the horses while Mithrandir sat holding Legolas on his lap in our Great Hall. More than once, I'd thought the child fast asleep where he lay with his head on the wizard's chest and his arms wrapped around the wizard's neck. When I looked again, however, I saw that Legolas's eyes were glittering at me in the firelight while he listened to my latest tale of happenings in our stables.

"Begin with horses and stories then," Mithrandir suggested. "Beyond that, be careful to raise neither hand nor voice to him. If you do this, then I believe that over time Legolas will come to trust you as he trusts me."

I snorted at that: Legolas would come to trust me as he trusted his beloved Mithrandir? The chances of that, I felt, were very slim. Small child and wizard had proven inseparable companions in the short time they'd been living here, often seeming to communicate without words. It was plain that the little elf was devoted his gentle rescuer. It was equally obvious that Mithrandir could not do without his little leaf, and had no wish to. But wait a moment... "Over time," the wizard had just said. I narrowed my gaze.

"Exactly how long did you say you'd be gone?"

"Six days, five darks," he replied promptly. "My journey will take me to the inn at Bree and back."

"See that it is only six days, five darks," I warned, pacing away from the railing. "From the way you speak this night, you expect to be gone a much longer time, and soon."

"Unfortunately, I do." A faint breeze stirred Mithrandir's hair and beard as his gaze held mine. "Saruman has summoned all of our Order to meet with him in Isengard at the end of next month. At that time, he will expect a full report on the goings-on at Dol Goldur, which means that as soon as possible I must journey there. It was this task that brought me to Mirkwood the day I first met my little leaf, so you see how long I have been putting that off."

His scowl was directed more at the interruption than the task, but it was not often that I had seen such dismay in the wizard's expression.

"I suspect that I will be given other assignments during our meeting," he continued, "which means that I will not be able to return to Rivendell for a few weeks, and that beyond catching up on what efforts I should have been undertaking." He looked somewhat sheepish, as though he'd never expected a thigh-high elfing to distract him so severely over most of the past year.

"How long do you expect to be gone?" I asked.

"If all goes well, two moons. It might be longer."

I drew a deep breath and closed my eyes. Two moons or longer, while I tried to keep track of an elfling who was very good at being invisible when he wished to be. An elfing who followed Mithrandir about like a pet, but who skittered away or beneath the wizard's robes whenever anyone else so much as smiled at him. Never mind touched him. Once or twice, I had been able to smooth a hand over Legolas's hair, but that had only been while he's been secure in the wizard's arms. And one of those times he'd been asleep. I found the prospect of being responsible for him more than a little daunting.

"What, exactly, am I to do with Legolas for two moons?" I wondered.

"Teach him, if you can," Mithrandir said softly, the trepidation in his eyes telling me that he knew all too well that what he was asking was impossible unless a miracle inserted itself between the boy and me during the wizard's absence. "I suspect that while Legolas's survival skills were perfected in his father's court, any regular lessons due small elves were severely lacking. Still, that is for the future, is it not?"

He abandoned the subject abruptly, no doubt hoping that Legolas would come to trust me before Mithrandir had to leave for an even more extended absence--one requiring years rather than weeks.

"I will leave tomorrow morning and return in six days," he reiterated. "The challenge for you this coming week will be to keep Legolas in the same room with you."

"How encouraging." Closing my eyes, I sent a silent prayer winging its way to Elbereth.

CHAPTER TWO

The morning of Mithrandir's departure dawned bright and clear and far too beautiful for the sorrow it held. The sun had barely cleared the horizon, with the morning dew still on the grass in my courtyard before Mithrandir emerged from the small chambers he shared with Legolas. Carrying him in his arms while Legolas carried the wizard's staff, they crossed the courtyard where Mithrandir's gelding and I waited.

The wizard's expression was somewhere between determined and forced cheer, while Legolas hid behind his silver-gold hair as it fell across his face. The long wooden was clutched tightly in his small fingers, and banged steadily against the wizard's shins as they traveled, though it seemed unnoticed by both. Reaching the gelding, Mithrandir reluctantly set the child on the ground before turning to attend last-minute details as were necessary for departure.

Legolas's finally looked up, and his blue eyes were filled with a sadness I'd never before seen in a child's gaze. His lower lip trembled and he bit it while Mithrandir fussed with the reins across the horse's withers. Legolas was crying, but he did not sob as other elven children did. His pain was evidenced only by the tears streaking continuously down his cheeks like condensation down a wineskin taken from a stream on a hot summer's eve.

Packs secured to saddle and tack checked once more, the wizard turned to kneel before the small elfling. Those blue eyes swam with tears as Legolas looked up at his wizard, and his breathing hitched as he struggled with his weeping. Mithrandir thumbed away the tear stains and gave a gentle smile.

"It's time, little one, and you promised to be brave as I promised to be back after five darks. Can you keep your promise?"

The narrow chin trembled, but Legolas nodded solemnly--resolute or resigned, I couldn't tell before he scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Lord Elrond will be looking after you, and he has many fine stories to tell," said Mithrandir, scooping the child up and hugging him tightly. "Listen to him, and I'll be back before you know it."

Setting Legolas on the ground, the wizard ran his fingers through the child's fine blonde hair before lifting into the saddle. I stepped forward to grasp the bridle as the child stepped back, out of danger of being stepped on and the better to see his wizard atop the horse. Hunching his shoulders, Legolas appeared bereft without the wizard's touch, and I could have sworn that he shivered. Reaching down impulsively, I scooped him up into my arms.

"Here now. You can't say a proper farewell from down there," I told the rigid, wide-eyed child whose fists were bunched against my tunic as he strained back and away from me. Turning Legolas slightly, I redirected his attention to Mithrandir, who had arranged his robes by now and was now regarding me and his elf in disbelief.

/So,/ that look said, /you've already managed to touch him. Well done, milord./

I acknowledged the silent compliment with a brief nod and fought to not tighten my grip. In truth, my heart was pounding hard in my chest as I anticipated Legolas fighting the embrace. The last thing I wanted to do was add to his misery at this parting. I had thought only to give him better access to Mithrandir during these last moments and was thoroughly convinced that the only reason the rigid little body was tolerating my touch was because its owner desperately wanted to be close as long as possible to the wizard astride the horse.

Giving a low cry, Legolas abruptly launched himself out of my arms and against Mithrandir's chest. I barely had time to catch his legs to prevent his sliding down the side of the horse.

"Mith you!"

The wizard's long arm snaked around Legolas's middle, pulling him safely astride the horse and into a fierce hug. Resting his cheek against the top of Legolas's head, Mithrandir squeezed his eyes closed against what I was shocked to realize were his own tears.

"I shall miss you too, my little leaf."

/If these two are this miserable at the parting of only a few days,/ I thought, /how by all of the stars will Mithrandir be able to drag himself away for the centuries his duties demand?/

"I won't be gone very long or very far this time," Mithrandir murmured. "Lord Elrond will help you count out the days, and I'll be back before you know it."

His large hand cradled Legolas's head and his blunt fingers sifted softly through the hair, only to caress the shell of a pointed ear and travel on to cup Legolas's cheek. The child leaned into his touch and sobbed softly. Tears squeezed out from between his closed eyes as he clutched Mithrandir's beard and tangled his fingers ever tighter in the thicket.

Mithrandir held the child for a very long time, stroking Legolas's bright hair and letting him cry until I thought that the child would make himself sick. Eventually, though, the tears slowed and stopped. Raising his head, Legolas found his guardian smiling kindly and still stroking his hair.

"Better?" Mithrandir rumbled.

Sniffling, the elfing dragged a sleeve beneath his nose and shrugged.

"Can you be brave now?"

Legolas didn't answer immediately, but stared down at Mithrandir's belt. Laying his hand atop the wizard's, he seemed to ponder the question for a very long time. Mithrandir seemed contented to let him do so until, slanting a glance my way, Legolas heaved a heavy sigh and nodded.

"That is well, my little leaf."

A final all-enveloping hug from Mithrandir, and then Legolas heaved a mighty sigh. Summoning a grimace that I supposed was meant as a smile, he patted Mithrandir's wizard's soggy beard. Sliding back on the gelding's withers, Legolas eyed the ground as though he planned to jump.

"Here, now, don't do that. Let Lord Elrond help you."

Sliding his hands around the child's waist, he handed Legolas over to me. My surprised gaze met Legolas's startled, wide-eyed stare as I instinctively reached to embrace--in more ways than one--the burden Mithrandir was bestowing on me. Two small hands came around my neck in a way I'd not felt since my own children had been very small. Fine, silver-blond hair brushed my cheek, and then the child was settling against my chest and twisting around--but not fighting--to stare back at Mithrandir.

"Only five darks, little one." The wizard caressed Legolas's cheek one last time and smiled so that his eyes crinkled. "I shall miss you."

"Mith you," Legolas whispered.

With a tight smile and a final nod to me, Mithrandir turned the horse across the courtyard. Shifting in the saddle, he waved beneath the archway, and then was gone. Legolas stared at the empty space for a long moment before turning solemn blue eyes on me... and staring. I scarcely dared to breathe while I waited for his next move. The moment stretched between us, with me being slow to realize that this was probably Legolas's equivalent of, "What next?" Mentally frantic, I cast about for some subject, some event, that he might want to participate in.

"You've not seen your mare yet today, have you?" I asked gently.

He shook his head and those wary blue eyes never left mine. For the first time, I had a good look at them, only to idly register that they were the brilliant blue color of a cloudless summer's day. Impatiently, Legolas pushed at the sun-silvered hair in his eyes.

"Do you want to visit your mare, then?"

Another shrug I assumed was in agreement, and so I headed across the courtyard and onto the winding path that would take us to the stables, fighting not to turn to see if Legolas was following me. Soon I heard the soft pat of his step behind me on the cobbles, and sighed in relief.

/Swift return, Wizard,/ I thought. /You're needed here more than both of us probably know./

CHAPTER THREE

Of all the places I'd hidden at my father's fortress in Mirkwood, the stables had been the safest and the warmest; nothing bad had ever happened to me there. Galion hadn't wanted to risk soiling his elegant slippered feet or his robes by venturing anywhere near, and the minions he'd sent looking for me were usually too stupid to find my hiding places, or too eager to return to the main hall to put much effort into the search. Sometimes, though, those who did find me for some reason would pretend never to have seen me there. Whatever the reasons, more often than not, I could feel safe in the stables.

Lord Elrond's stables were bigger and brighter than my father's, but they smelled and felt the same -- all fresh-cut hay and horses and cool shadows. This was familiar to me, this was home. The horses poked their heads out of their stalls as we entered, all of them curious, with bright soft eyes and pricked ears.

Happy horses, I noted with surprise. Happy to see these big elves, not shrinking back into the shadows in the back of the stalls as they had at home sometimes, and there were no pinned ears either. The horses liked these elves.

This was important to note. The horses turned their attention to me as though they might be interested in meeting me. I wanted to meet all of them. But on my own time, not with the Big Elves.

In sudden alarm, I realized that Lord Elrond -- one of the Big Elves -- was still holding me. My heart gave a sudden convulsive leap into double time in fear. And I squirmed violently, twisting to get out of his embrace. Mith was gone and he'd told me to listen to the elf-lord, but I hoped that didn't mean that I had to let him touch me. Lord Elrond didn't feel angry like Galion always had, but that didn't mean I should be so stupid as to let him carry me. Past experience had taught that elf-adult moods could change without warning. Any moment, I might do something that would make Lord Elrond mad. He was very big and felt very powerful, so that I didn't want to be anywhere near him when that happened. And it would. Sooner or later, it always did.

He was strong, too. No matter how hard I squirmed, I couldn't jump out of his grasp as I sometimes could with Galion and his lackeys. Suddenly I was more afraid than I'd been since my first night in Imladris, and frantic to escape his hold on me. Our eyes met briefly in my struggles, but the Big Elf's eyes only held surprise and sadness.

He was sad? To my surprise Lord Elrond set me gently down on the dirt floor and stepped back. He even murmured what I think were supposed to be reassurances. It did help a little that he let me go. It let me know that I hadn't yet made him mad.

I backed away from him carefully. When he did not follow I moved over to the first stall. Now deprived of Lord Elrond's height, all I could do was stare up at the horse's chin and neck. Any hope of patting this horse or talking with him was totally lost. I wished I were taller as the horse stretched its neck over the door, widened its eyes, and blew a greeting at me. I missed the barrels and crates that Nesséro, the horsemaster, had set for me in Mirkwood to climb up at strategic places along the aisle. Standing on tiptoe, I reached up as far as I could to stroke the horse's velvety muzzle as it reached down toward me.

"Good morning, Lord Elrond," a low, pleasant voice spoke, its owner looming up behind me. "I see that you've brought someone to visit."

I whirled, ready to run should this stablemaster disapprove of my touching his charges. A big hand closed on my shoulder, but not harshly to keep me in place. Startled, I rocked back and stared upward only to recognize Lord Glorfindel. I already knew that he wasn't Elrond's stablemaster, but he seemed to spend a lot of time with the horses. A couple of grooms moved quietly behind him, paying none of us any attention as they went about their duties. I was glad; it made me nervous already to have the attention of two elf-lords focused firmly on me. More people staring would have made it even worse.

"Good morning," Elrond said mildly. "Legolas has come to see his mare."

"Has he now?"

Dropping to one knee, Glorfindel smiled and let go my shoulder. I didn't think I needed to run from him because he'd been nice to me before. The morning Gerdan and the Mirkwood guard visited, Glorfindel had asked about the carved horse the captain had given me and actually seemed interested in my answers. After that, he'd taken Mith and me to the stables to see the horses. The stalls had all been empty as the animals had been turned out. I'd had to look over fences then into paddocks and fields and hadn't been able to meet anyone up close.

"Annun is close to foaling," Glorfindel said to me. "She's very bored as we're keeping her up these days, so I know she'll be glad to see you. She's just over there." He gestured to a nearby stall, one with solid walls rather than planks, so that I could catch no glimpse of my mare.

Releasing the latch, Elrond gestured me over. The stall door latch softly snicked closed behind me. I sidestepped a mound of hay and Annun nickered as she turned greet me. Lowering her head so that I could slide my arms around her neck, she bumped her chin against my back, then nibbled at my hair as she used to do at home.

"She's a sweet old mare," Glorfindel said approvingly, "and she's good with Legolas."

"Hugs from mares are probably the only mothering the boy's ever known," I heard Elrond comment outside the stall.

"Sadly, yes."

Their conversation moved on to other matters -- expectations of current breedings and future foalings, I thought -- and their voices retreated. I was left alone with my mare and settled down close to her foreleg when she resumed eating hay.

Hers was as comforting a presence as it had ever been with her endless, companionable munching and the heat of her large body warming me. Her belly hung huge over me and she moved as if her hipbones were wobbly and uncertain of holding her hindquarters -- preparation for the foal that must pass between them. She would surely foal soon as Glorfindel said. I'd seen spindle-legged foals dance and play in the paddocks at Mirkwood, but Nesséro had never allowed me to witness the birthing of one. Not that it stopped me from watching anyway.

There were other ways to see, if permission wasn't granted. Mirkwood's stables had been graced with a second level for storage. Bales of hay and barrels of feed, extra blankets and boxes of equipment had willingly hidden me. Cracks in railings and floors had afforded excellent views of whatever had been happening down below as well as swift access for climbing.

Staring up into this stable's rafters, I noted where the loft stairs were and decided to explore the space over my head as soon as possible. Surely Lord Elrond wouldn't want me with him every minute of every day? Surely there would be more than enough time to find new, safe hiding places? If Elrond wanted me close days, then there was always the night. Sneaking was always easier in the dark, and the loft might be the perfect place to lie and see without being seen. I could be close to Annun, too, and none of the grooms or Glorfindel need ever know that I watched their comings and goings. I'd find out then who had kind hands for the horses and who might hit me as well as them if I got too close. I nodded and stroked Annun's leg, pleased with my plans and eager to implement them at the earliest opportunity.

Annun finished her hay soon and wandered over to gaze out of the open window to the sunny fields beyond her foaling stall. Heaving a great sigh to see her companions grazing in the new day, she rolled back her eye at me as if to say, "Outside, please." She circled back around when I ignored her request and nuzzled my new tunic with a hay-foamed muzzle, as if to try forcing me to my feet and over to the stall's back door.

"Can't go out," I whispered into her ear. "Your baby has to come first, then you can both go out."

She wasn't grateful for this information but only butted me harder with her nose. It was probably better for me to leave before she started making more demands, and I got yelled at for upsetting her. I couldn't give her what she wanted, anyway. But I could give her more hay.

Sneaking out the front door of the stall --the one Glorfindel had guided me through -- I listened carefully to find out where Lord Elrond and Glorfindel had gone. There they were, just outside the stable proper and still talking. Pushing the stall door closed, I darted across the aisle and swept aside an oil-cloth to pull free a fat flake of hay. Carrying it back to Annun, I was horrified to see my mare shove at the stall door. It swung wide, allowing her to gain the freedom she craved so much.

CHAPTER FOUR

The expression in Annun's usually calm brown eyes was smugly triumphant as she paced across the stable aisle. Dropping my hay flake, I ran after her and shoved desperately at her leg but she wouldn't stop. Ignoring all of my efforts, she gained the door beyond which was Elrond and Glorfindel. It mattered not that Annun barely fit through that door.

Snagging the end of her tail in a feeble, last attempt to stop her, I swore softly, using a couple of the bad words that Gerdan had taught me. Annun didn't even shorten her stride at my valiant efforts to slow her; she merely towed me across the cobbles. She seemed annoyed by the weight, though. Yanking her tail out of my grasp, she flicked it back in my face as she cleared the door entirely.

"Here now, lady, what are you doing out?" A low laugh sounded, and Glorfindel appeared on the threshold. He disappeared the next moment, in pursuit of my mare, no doubt.

I was both relieved and alarmed when Lord Elrond preceded Glorfindel and Annun through the door. A quick look around the clean-swept aisle reminded me there was nowhere to hide and so I stood, helpless to avoid the attentions and temper of this Big Elf. Lord Elrond gave me a quizzical look, but didn't reach for me. Glancing briefly behind me, Elrond noted the abandoned flake of hay halfway across the aisle.

"She escaped you, did she?"

I nodded and stared at my feet.

"Did you forget to latch the door behind you?"

"Went for hay," I mumbled. "Not gone long." I kept my eyes on the floor and knew that Elrond would be very angry with me now.

"Legolas, you cannot assume a horse will stay behind a stall door that is not secured."

He didn't sound all that angry. Not yet, anyway. But he did sound stern, and the stretching silence made it clear that he expected some response from me. Glancing up, I dared to reply. "I know."

"If you know, then why did you not latch the stall door?"

"I..." Why hadn't I? I wanted Annun safe, and even though I had been in a hurry, why hadn't I locked the stall door? I knew she wanted out, so why?... How could I tell the Big Elf that I was rushing to steal more hay for her before they saw me and stopped me? "I... don't know."

Silence met my words. I waited for the hard blow that was surely to come, but all I heard was a deep sigh. Then came a hand on the back of my head -- a gentle hand, guiding rather than commanding. Almost as gentle as Mith's. It still made me flinch, though. I hadn't expected it.

"Come, Legolas, let us get out of the aisle. Glorfindel has your mare, and she needs to go back into her stall."

An irritated Annun was returned by the other Big Elf, who seemed highly amused by her displeasure. My flake of hay was tossed at Annun's feet, and Glorfindel exchanged glances with Lord Elrond before stepping back and into the shadows, to watch whatever was to happen next.

"Come here please, Legolas?"

Ah, comes the punishment. I knew it would, sooner or later. But there was no dodging it now. My feet dragged across the aisle to the elf-lord's side.

"Perhaps you don't understand how our latches work," Elrond commented. "Here, let me show you."

I watched closely as his big hands worked the latch. Twice he explained, but I didn't really hear the words, startled as I was by what was happening. Only Gerdan, the horsemasters, and a couple of the kitchen servants in Mirkwood had taken the time to explain anything to me before. Elf-lords just didn't explain things. Not anything. Ever.

"Can you close the latch yourself?"

I nodded.

"Show me."

I had to get up on tiptoe to reach the chain, and it argued with me before seating itself at the base of the metal rod, but I did it. Feeling a certain amount of triumph but knowing better than to show it, I looked at the latch and waited.

"It's not easy being small, is it?" Glorfindel said softly from the shadows. "Not when everything around you is so much bigger, taller, and out of reach?"

That made me stare at the floor again because I wasn't certain what kind of a response he was looking for.

"Legolas?" Elrond's voice commanded that I look up at him. "There is nothing wrong with being small, and you will grow in time so that things will not be so difficult for you to reach. Until you do, however, you must tell us if you do not understand or need help with something. Anyone here in Imladris will be glad to help, and no harm will come to you because of it. It's not a bad thing to be a little boy. Do you understand?"

"Yeth." I did understand. But that didn't mean I believed it.

"Good. Now please come and meet the other horses."

He scooped me up into his arms again, so fast that I couldn't run. We started off down the aisle and instinct told me that I might yet be in trouble. Pushing my hands against Elrond's chest, I let go a shriek and kicked. Hard.

He looked startled at my fighting him -- hadn't he carried me into the stable without protest only minutes before? That didn't matter; he was too close and might turn his anger on me at any minute, regardless he seemed to have overlooking my transgression at leaving the stall door open. I wanted down, and right now.

He released me immediately, leaning back and letting me slide down his thigh until my feet reached the floor with a thump. Stepping back, I panted and stared up at him, noting almost guiltily that he rubbed his thigh where I'd kicked him so hard.

"All is well, Legolas." Glorfindel spoke softly, coming slowly out of the shadows to stand beside me. I was grateful that he didn't reach for me with more than his voice. "No one is angry with you, no one means to hurt you. But the horses want to meet you. See?"

He pointed down the aisle. Every stall doorway framed an equine head turned in my direction, ears tipped toward me in definite interest.

"I don't want to disappoint them, so let's all go and see the horses, shall we?"

Interested, hah. They probably just weren't used to elves who screamed and kicked elf-lords. Still, whether they wanted to meet me or not, I definitely wanted to meet them. With that in mind, I noted again where the doorway to the stable was located and then followed the Big Elves down the aisle.

Glorfindel and Elrond went off together down the broad aisle, pausing at each stall in its turn, scratching horse chins and behind ears, relaying names and histories as I warily scuffed along behind them. The two elf-lords took turns adding details, until they were both deep in another equine debate and I was all but forgotten. Which was just fine with me, because it gave me the chance to hang back and watch them.

They didn't argue fiercely, didn't get angry or mean like Galion had done. Glorfindel only laughed when Elrond seemed to growl, and their words just went on. They seemed to be debating some sort of breeding plans, with Elrond arguing for something and Glorfindel insisting that such plans were hopeless. I got bored soon and wandered down the aisle where I found a shining white horse that stood very still and alert, with his ears canted up as he watched Glorfindel.

A glance between the boards of the stall told me that he was a stallion, easily noted from my lower angle. Even if I couldn't have seen, his heavily muscled neck and look of eagles would have told me so. Snorting, he spared a glare at me and stamped a foot in warning as I came nearer. All I got for my soft-murmured greetings and reassurances were pinned ears. He didn't even deign to lower his head and sniff my outstretched hand. He did, however, grasp the edge of the door in his teeth and rattle it. Hard. He didn't seem like a really friendly horse.

I stopped trying to get his attention when he started digging at the base of the door. Within seconds, he was slamming the points of his hooves against the stall wall and weaving back and forth, obviously agitated that his master was ignoring him. I watched in awe, wondering whose stallion he was. More than anything, I wanted to ride him. Wanted to feel his power surge beneath my hands and legs, wanted his mind and heart flying with mine.

I knew how. Knew I could do it. Perhaps tonight, if I could sneak out after dark.

Glorfindel strode past me to approach the stall and laid the palm of his hand between the stallion's eyes.

"Naur," he whispered into the flattened ear and draped his free hand across the damp, arched neck. "Be still, I am here."

Naur... 'Of fire.' For all that the stallion was white, Glorfindel's horse was fire. I understood him and knew that he would understand me. Yes, we would fly together through the darkness.

"He's beautiful, isn't he? He's also evil."

I jumped back at Elrond's voice, so close to my left ear. So absorbed had I been in watching Naur, I hadn't heard the elf-lord approach. Nor had I been conscious of Elrond's squatting down beside me.

"Naur is not evil, Lord Elrond." Glorfindel was stroking between the beast's eyes now; the ears were no longer pinned. "Only devoted."

"Devoted he may be, but he is as dangerous to others as he is devoted to you." Elrond looked across at me. "No one rides Naur but Glorfindel, no one can for he violently refuses to carry anyone else. And no one -- not even me -- dares to enter his stall but Glorfindel. This stallion will hurt anyone else who enters." He glanced over to me, his expression very serious. "Note that, little one. Naur will hurt you if you approach him."

That was silly, I thought. Naur wouldn't hurt me.

"Would you like to meet Silme, my horse?" Elrond offered.

I hesitated, wanting nothing more than to prove to Elrond that he was wrong: Naur would carry me. But now was not the time; I would wait until after dark. For now, I decided that I wanted to meet Elrond's horse and nodded shyly in reply.

On to next part

Back to Story List