Disclaimer:  I borrow characters and settings from Tolkien but they belong to him.  I gain no profit from their use other than the enriched imaginative life that I assume he intended me to gain.

Many thanks to Nilmandra for beta reading this chapter.

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5. Home Truths

Legolas paused in opening the sitting room door. “What is the matter?” Turgon demanded. “We have the flowers. Go in!”

Legolas hesitated and then called loudly, “We are back, Eilian!” He shoved the door open, and, followed by his friends, he trotted into the room to find Eilian casually sipping his wine with Amelith a few inches away from him on the bench, patting her hair into place.

“We have it!” cried Turgon, running forward to hand the crown to Eilian.

“Good for you. That is, indeed, the treasure,” Eilian said.

“Ada says he will be here soon,” Legolas added.

Eilian stared at him and then looked down at the crown he now held. “Ada saw you?”

Legolas nodded. “He came into the Great Hall when the dancers fell down.”

Eilian blinked. “The dancers fell?”

“Yes, but they were not hurt,” Turgon said impatiently. “What is our next clue?”

“Why did the dancers fall?” Amelith put in, looking amused. Legolas scowled at her. She was nosy.

“We do not know,” Turgon said glibly. Legolas turned to stare at him and found Annael staring too and starting to open his mouth. “They were not hurt,” Turgon repeated hastily, “and we need our next clue.” He looked at Annael. “No lessons tomorrow,” he said emphatically. Annael shut his mouth but looked unhappy.

Eilian sat frowning for a moment, but then he shrugged. “Very well. Here is your next clue:

“Go to the place where an elfling toils
and look to the lost lands of the west;
bring back the filmy, pretty thing,
and you will have passed your third and last test.”

“This is the last clue?” Turgon asked excitedly. Eilian laughed and nodded, and Turgon whooped and ran from the room. Legolas followed, with Annael at his heels. “This one is easy,” Turgon bubbled when they were all in the hall. “Where do you have your lessons, Legolas?”

Legolas looked at Turgon and then laughed in delight. Turgon really was clever. “In the library,” he said and started to run in the direction of the library. They burst into the room.

“Look west,” Annael ordered, and all three of them turned to face west. Shelves of book confronted them, with the rolled up ends of scrolls showing in the little cubbyholes beneath.

“We need to find a ‘pretty, filmy thing,’” said Turgon.

“The books are pretty colors,” Legolas said doubtfully, “but none of them is filmy.”

“Could one of the scrolls be filmy?” Turgon asked.

“Maybe,” Legolas said. The parchment of some of the scrolls was a little thin. He dropped to his knees next to the rows of scrolls, pulled one out, and then hesitated. “Wait,” he said to Turgon, who was untying a scroll he had seized. Turgon stopped and Annael paused, with his hand on a scroll. “You are supposed to be careful with scrolls. My tutor usually makes me wash my hands and then open a scroll on the table, and I have to put it away again before I can open another one.”

“That will take too long,” Turgon protested.

Suddenly, Annael stood up. “Look!” he cried. Legolas turned to look where Annael was pointing. On the blank wall on the south side of the room, Legolas’s tutor had hung maps, and on the map of Numenor was pinned a white, lace-trimmed garment that looked like a very short, very thin gown. Pink flowers were embroidered around the hem.

“That must be it!” crowed Turgon and ran to tug on the garment. When it would not come loose, he seized a chair, dragged it toward the map, and climbed up to inspect the pins.

“What is it?” Legolas asked curiously.

His friends both turned to look at him. “It is a chemise,” Turgon said and went back to trying to detach it.

“A lady’s thing,” Annael added helpfully. “Like an undertunic.”

Legolas looked back at the garment, which Turgon was now pulling free. Any lady wearing this undertunic would get cold, Legolas thought, eyeing the star-shaped form of Numenor, plainly visible through the garment. Legolas could read the names of the cities. Nimloth would have thrown away any undertunic of his that had become that thin.

“I have it!” Turgon cried and jumped down from the chair, holding the chemise. He led them out of the library and back to the sitting room. “We found it, Eilian!” he called before he even had the door open.  He rushed into the room, with Legolas and Annael following him. Legolas skidded to a stop beside him as he offered the chemise to Eilian.

“What is that?” Amelith asked, her brows drawing together.

“It is a chemise,” Legolas told her, wondering if his friends had been wrong in identifying the garment. If it was something ladies wore, then surely Amelith would have known what it was.

She turned to look at Eilian, and this time she was not smiling at all. He put up his hands in protest, laughing a little. “It came back from the palace laundry mixed with some of my things,” he said.

Amelith did not laugh though. Indeed, Legolas thought she looked a little suspicious, like Ada looked when he thought Legolas had not been quite truthful.

The door opened, and Thranduil walked into the room, drawing Eilian and Amelith to their feet. “Good evening, Adar,” Eilian said.

“Good evening,” said Thranduil. “Good evening, Amelith. How nice to see you.”

“We won the game, Ada!” Legolas cried. “We found the last treasure.” He pointed to the chemise that was still in Turgon’s hand.

Turgon held it up for the king’s inspection. “Eilian is going to get Annael and me out of lessons for tomorrow and take us to the waterfall with Legolas,” he said gleefully.

Thranduil’s eyes went from the chemise to Eilian, whose face was getting quite red, Legolas noticed. “The chemise came back from the laundry with some of my clean clothes, Adar,” he said.

“Indeed?” Thranduil asked coolly. “How interesting. And how were you proposing to get Turgon’s and Annael’s parents and tutors to excuse them from lessons?”

“I said I would ask them,” Eilian answered. Legolas frowned. Eilian was apparently in some sort of trouble. Legolas’s stomach tightened. He hated it when Eilian and their father were at odds.

“They will listen to Eilian, will they not?” asked Turgon anxiously, addressing his question to Thranduil, whom he apparently recognized as a higher authority than Eilian on the behavior of parents and tutors.

“It is for my begetting day, Ada,” Legolas said worriedly. “They would understand that, do you not think?” He really hoped his friends could go with him and Eilian the next day.

His father’s eyes met his. And after a moment, Thranduil said, “I will send messages asking that your friends be freed from lessons tomorrow. I think their parents will understand.”

Turgon and Annael cheered, and Legolas flung his arms around his father’s waist and cried, “Thank you, Ada!”

Thranduil ran his hand gently over Legolas’s head. “You are welcome, my heart.”

Suddenly, Amelith shrieked and jumped. “Something just ran over my foot!” she cried. “Oh, it did it again!” She lifted her skirts, shook them, and pranced aside, and out from under them ran a mouse with a blue ribbon on its tail.

“Blue-y!” Legolas cried and dove after him.  Blue-y scurried into a corner and then poked frantically at the wall, looking for an exit, and Legolas darted out his hand and captured him. “Blue-y,” he crooned, “do not be afraid. No one is going to hurt you.” The warm little creature trembled in his hand. Turgon and Annael crowded around him, looking at the mouse.

“It clawed my stocking,” Amelith cried in vexation. She scowled at Legolas. “Is the little beast yours? You should not be allowed to let it run around loose damaging things like that.”

Legolas glared at her and cradled Blue-y to his breast. “It was an accident. He did not mean to tear your stocking. He got afraid when you squealed. And you are talking too loudly and scaring him now too.”

“Legolas, be polite,” Thranduil admonished firmly.

Legolas pressed his mouth together and then, grudgingly, said, “I am sorry I was rude.” He wished that Blue-y had bitten her ankle.

Thranduil smiled at Amelith. “How kind of you to give advice on what my son should be ‘allowed’ to do,” he said in a voice that sounded nice but Legolas knew from past experience was probably not. He looked curiously at his father and then at Amelith.

For a moment, she did nothing. Then she flushed and snatched up her cloak from the back of a chair. “It grows late, Eilian. I really must be going.” Eilian hastened to hold her cloak for her and put it around her shoulders, but she jerked away from his touch, and he lifted his hands away quickly, looking exasperated. “You do not have to accompany me,” she sniffed. “By your leave, my lord.”

“Of course, my dear,” said Thranduil. “But we cannot allow you to walk home alone. Eilian, see to it that a guard accompanies our guest.”

“Yes, Adar.” Eilian hurried out of the room after Amelith.

Legolas scowled after her. He tipped his hand a little away from his chest so he could see Blue-y. “The bad lady is gone,” he murmured. He looked up to find Thranduil watching him with a half smile on his face. His father approached and peered over Turgon’s and Annael’s heads at Blue-y, still quivering in Legolas’s hand.

“Did you bring the mouse inside, Legolas?”

“Yes. Can I keep him, Ada?” He looked anxiously at Thranduil.

His father looked at Blue-y thoughtfully. “You need to ask the mouse if he wants to be kept. He belongs to himself, not to you or to me.”

Legolas looked at Blue-y. “I do not understand his mouse talk,” he admitted.

“Perhaps you can tell how he feels from how he looks. Do you think he is happy being a pet?” Thranduil asked. “He looks a little frightened to me. And I wonder if he might not miss the forest.”

Legolas looked down at Blue-y. He did still look afraid, even though Legolas had tried to make him feel safe. Tears suddenly stung Legolas’s eyes, but he blinked them away. “The forest would be a nice place to live,” he admitted. He bit his lip so that it would not tremble.

“Cook is putting Red-y back outside,” Annael said, patting Legolas’s arm. “And maybe Green-y ran out the Doors when he left the Hall. If you put Blue-y out too, they could play together.”

Legolas looked up at his father and made his decision. “We should let him go,” he said bravely.

Thranduil smiled. “I think that would be a very kind thing to do. Shall I come with you?” Legolas nodded, and with Annael and Turgon following them, Thranduil led the way out the door. They met Eilian in the hallway. “Wait for me in the sitting room, Eilian,” Thranduil said. “I wish to speak with you.” Eilian grimaced, nodded, and went on his way.

Thranduil put a comforting hand on Legolas’s shoulder and kept it there until they got to the Great Doors. The guards stiffened and saluted Thranduil, who led them all down the steps and across the bridge. As sad as he felt, Legolas could not help rejoicing in the beauty of the stars and the night songs of the trees and the river.

“Shall we let him go in the garden?” Thranduil asked, and Legolas nodded. The garden was nice, and maybe Blue-y would stay there and Legolas would see him again. Thranduil opened the gate to the garden, and all of them trooped in.

“You should choose a good spot, Legolas,” Thranduil said, and Legolas had to think for only a moment before he knew where he wanted to let Blue-y go. He trotted along the gravel path until he reached the place where the roses grew. He had been told that this was his mother’s garden, but he had been too little when she died to remember her in it. Still, he liked the roses, and the fact that this was his mother’s place was comforting too. Perhaps Blue-y would feel safe here.

He crouched near a rose bush and then opened his hands. For a second, Blue-y hesitated. Then he flew out of Legolas’s grasp and disappeared among the bushes, with a flash of blue ribbon.

Feeling bereft, Legolas rose. His father put his arm around him and then bent to kiss the top of his head. “That was a brave and generous thing to do, Legolas.” Legolas nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Can we stay out for a while?” Turgon asked.

“No,” said Thranduil. “It grows late. You three should get ready for bed.”

“Will you come and read us a story, Ada?”

“Yes. I will come in a little while. I need to speak to Eilian first. You three get washed up and put your night clothes on and get into bed. I will be there soon.” He led them back into the palace and sent them off to Legolas’s room while he turned toward the sitting room.

***

Eilian poured himself some more wine and flung himself onto the padded bench. He blew out his breath in a long sigh. The evening had been pleasant enough, he supposed, but it was not ending well. His father was not happy with him and was going to demand some sort of explanation. Ah well. He had enough experience explaining himself to be able to manage.

He grinned as a sudden vision of Legolas glaring at Amelith rose before him. His little brother had looked so fierce defending that mouse. And, of course, Amelith really had not behaved well. She was one of many maidens, but Legolas was his baby brother and she should not have been so short with him. Whatever would he do without the brat to amuse him? Eilian wondered fondly.

His thoughts drifted to the day of Legolas’s birth. What would he have been doing nineteen years ago tonight? The answer to that was easy: He and Maltanaur would have been on their way home.

~*~*~

Nineteen years and about six hours earlier

“We should go now while they are all asleep,” Eilian urged. He kept his voice low, although the noise of the waterfall almost made it impossible for the sleeping Orcs to hear any sound he and Maltanaur made.

“No,” Maltanaur said, without bothering to open his eyes.

“They will not follow us in broad sunlight!”

“You know as well as I do that they have sentries just inside the mouths of all those caves, and sunlight is not going to stop their arrows. We will wait until they leave tonight.” Maltanaur shifted restlessly, and Eilian suddenly felt guilty.

“Is your leg bothering you?” he asked. He had stitched and bandaged the wound on Maltanaur’s leg, and it was already beginning to heal, but it must have been painful. In truth, Maltanaur’s injured leg was the reason Eilian was not protesting more forcefully against spending the day behind the waterfall. His minder was not going to be able to move very quickly for a while, and a slow-moving Elf made an excellent target for Orc arrows. Eilian only hoped that Maltanaur would be more agile by the time night came.

“My leg will be fine,” Maltanaur said. Eilian sighed and leaned back against the damp stone behind him. Maltanaur cracked one eye open. “You should relax while you can.”

Eilian grimaced. “We need to warn Ithilden about these Orcs, so he can send a patrol to clear them out.”

“We will tell him as soon as we get home.”

Eilian thought but did not say that that might be too late for the settlement if the Orcs decided to try to attack it. He deliberately turned his mind to other matters. “I do not want to miss the baby’s birth,” he murmured.

“You may be home in time yet, depending on what time of day he is born. We would have traveled all day today to reach home by the evening before the birth; now we will just travel all night to reach home on the morning of the day.”

Eilian pulled his dagger from his boot and began tossing it and catching it again. Maltanaur opened both eyes and focused on him. “What is the matter?”

Eilian made a face. He should have known that Maltanaur would be able to read his mood. His minder was supposed to see to his physical safety, but Maltanaur tended to see guarding Eilian’s state of mind as part of his charge too. “I am worried about my naneth.”

“Why?”

Eilian blinked. Surely it was obvious why he would be worried about his mother giving birth. “She was exhausted the last time I was home.”

Maltanaur shrugged. “The queen is strong and will have your adar’s support and that of the midwife. She will be fine.” He cocked his head. “You do not seem very happy about this baby, Eilian. Why is that?”

Eilian frowned irritably. “I just told you I am worried about my naneth.”

“But just what is it you worry about?” Maltanaur persisted. “You have friends who have become parents, so you know as well as I do that your naneth’s fatigue is normal.” He paused, and when Eilian did not reply, he went on thoughtfully, “Of course, you have never seen a new baby in your own family. I wonder if you are really worried less about the birth itself than about what changes might happen after the baby is born.”

Eilian missed catching his dagger, and it landed with a loud clatter on the rocky ledge. He only just managed to grab it before it spun off the ledge and into the pool below them. He and Maltanaur both froze, listening for the Orcs to react to the metallic clang. After a few moments, however, they both relaxed slightly. The noise of the waterfall was evidently still protecting them.

They leaned back to wait, and Maltanaur did not bring up the topic of the baby again, but Eilian could not stop thinking about what his keeper had said. Was he worried about the baby’s birth changing things at home somehow? With an honesty that had been trained into him from earliest childhood, he had to admit that was possible.

He had always been closer to his mother than to his father. As a youth, he had watched the interactions of Thranduil and Ithilden, who had commanded the realm’s troops for years before Eilian was born, and he had gradually come to recognize that his father and brother shared a common view of the world that he would never understand. But he and his mother had always understood one another. Like his father, she had sometimes disapproved of Eilian’s actions, but she had always seemed to grasp why he did what he did, and she had helped him to understand himself better too.

So was it possible that he was jealous of his soon-to-be-born baby brother? He hated to think so, because the emotion seemed both childish and distasteful, but he had to admit that he might very well be worried that the baby would supplant him in his mother’s affection, especially now that he was away so much. He sighed, leaned his head back against the rocks, and closed his eyes. Neither he nor Maltanaur should sleep with Orcs so near, but they should both try to rest. Maltanaur had been right about that as he was about so many things.