"Have a care brother, this is their last opportunity, I do not think they will be kind."
Legolas laughed, "I am used to that, brother. It will not bother me."
Handir held his gaze for a while, knowing it was true for he had seen it in the Council, that cool, detached expression as others referred to him in less than endearing terms.
"Keep a cool head," continued Handir as they walked back to the Council Hall, behind the King and his small party of dignitaries. "Do not let them anger you for that is when the mistakes come. Stay calm, analyse, speak with strength and move, do not stay in one place for too long - and no fidgeting with your hands..."
"Alright," chuckled Legolas, for his brother was making him more nervous.
The Councillors stood as the king entered, and then waited for him to sit before they, too, took their chairs, their conversation slowly petering out.
"My Lords, my Ladies. It is time for petitioners to speak before the vote is taken. Who seeks the floor?"
"I do!" called Barathon from the public area as he strode forward and then stood inside the circle.
Bowing to the king and then to his father, he faced Legolas and began to speak.
"I do not agree with the creation of a Silvan Warlord, and I do not second Lord Legolas as the one to fulfil that role - and, I would like to tell you why. Legolas, son of Thranduil king and Lassiel of the Woodland Realm," he began with a flurry of his hand. "While his Sindarin blood is noble, his Silvan blood is not, indeed Lassiel was - renowned - for her proclivities, shall we say."
There were hushed whispers as the councillors chanced a fleeting glance at the king and then at Legolas.
"His upbringing will have been less than ideal and his nobility highly questionable," continued Barathon. "Add to this his age - seven hundred and forty-four - and the fact that he has been a warrior for less than two years. I have never, my Lords, never heard of such an unsuitable background for a position of responsibility.
But there is more, for you see I was present for the trial of Legolas, and I voted against their ruling to invest him as a lieutenant. I saw his performance, and there was nothing to merit that promotion."
Barathon flinched when Captain Turion entered the circle, confident and completely calm, yet there was something in the way he moved, in the way he strode forward to face him that seemed almost - aggressive.
"Lord Barathon. You speak lies," he said into Barathon's face, before he moved away and then continued to speak as he walked around the circle.
"A quick word about Barathon's claims - he says these lies for he himself was left humiliated, wide-eyed and mouth agape when Legolas bested him in a, shall we say, extremely brief spar," he paused, allowing himself a smirk at a now red-faced ex-commander.
"This warrior was once a Captain," began Turion, "until he shamed himself before the entire Inner Circle. I could go into detail of course, but I do not believe that necessary, indeed I would not have mentioned your humiliation, had you not insulted the army I serve, the king I serve and the warrior I respect amongst most others. You have always shown your aversion to Legolas, 'tis nothing new and your motives are still a mystery to me for this hatred is surely more than jealousy.
However, should you decide not to disclose the root of your hatred, I will say simply that your opinion means nothing to me, for you do not have my respect, nor that of the Inner Circle," said Turion finally, his eyes lingering on Barathon before he turned and nodded his thanks to Sedren.
Barathon, alone once more inside the circle, scoffed. "My argument stands, he does not deserve the rank of lieutenant, just as he does not deserve to be the Silvan Warlord. I agree with my father, Lord Bandorion in this - his loyalty must be questioned. He will turn the Silvans against us until we have war!"
No one else seemed to be forthcoming, and so Barathon left the circle, nodding at Silor as he walked in the opposite direction.
"I am Silor, a warrior who was, until recently, aspiring to the rank of Lieutenant. I had the misfortune of serving with Lord Legolas on our journey to Imladris. All my hopes and dreams were dashed the day our paths crossed. And why? you may ask. Well I will tell you. I gave that warrior a direct order, and for my efforts I was thrown to the ground but that is not all," he added with a theatrical wave of his hand, "that elf - is not natural..."
There was a collective gasp and Legolas resisted the urge to close his eyes in dread. This elf had seen his eyes in spite of Ram en' Ondo's best efforts ...
It was Mithrandir that promptly walked into the circle to face Silor, his staff clicking over the cool stone slowly, calculatingly.
"Not natural, Silor?" he asked challengingly.
"There is a demon inside him, I have seen it for his eyes fill with green light and shine so bright they can no longer be seen!"
"Silor, calm yourself, warrior," said Mithrandir in a tone that Legolas would never have expected from the generally good-natured wizard, for it was patronising and sardonic.
"Calm myself? You did not see it, I did!"
"What you saw," said Mithrandir, raising his voice to cut off any further outburst, "is simply what happens to any listener when they are - listening - do not let your own absurd superstitions get the better of you, Silor, there is nothing unnatural about that."
"That was no ordinary pulse of light, Mithrandir, I tell you it is frightening, nothing good can induce such negative emotions, and I am not the only one to have seen it! They saw it too," he said, pointing at those members of The Company that had been there at the time.
"Well, they obviously do not agree with you that he is not natural, they are his very good friends, as you may know. For my part I have said all that needs to be said on that point - you exaggerate a perfectly normal physical response," said the Wizard finally, and then left the circle.
"And what of his insubordination?" called Silor, holding his ground. "Is that now to be condoned?" asked Silor incredulously.
The heavy clank of boots over stone heralded the arrival of an elf, a heavy one - Ram en' Ondo.
"Silor - you may remember me. When you saw his eyes and called him "demon of Morgoth?"
There were giggles and snorts from some of the councillors and the audience beyond, but Ram en' Ondo pushed forwards.
"And then, in your panic, you ran for him - what would you have done if I had not stepped in front of him? To protect him?"
"I would have hauled his backside to Lieutenant Galadan!"
"And that is what you did, isn't it? You physically dragged him across half the camp and then complained bitterly to your tutor lieutenant, completely ignoring the warning you were being given, and amidst the squabbling - we were ambushed," said Ram en' Ondo, his voice rising with every word he said. "Your prejudice, your disdain for the Silvan warriors was above even the safety of your prince!" he shouted. We lost four warriors in that battle, and would have lost more had Legolas not fallen back to protect the injured. He was lost for two days! Until Lord Elladan found him and brought him back, broken but alive. Who?" seethed Ram en' Ondo, "is the demon of Morgoth?"
Silence stretched on as the council thought on Ram en's words, and as the mighty warrior left the circle, Lieutenant Galadan took his place.
"I second Ram en' Ondo's account," said Galadan, waiting for the giggles to subside again, for 'Wall of Stone' was not a widespread name.
"I struggled to get that caravan back to safety, together with Lord Legolas and Galdithion - otherwise known as Rhawthir," he ventured, and laughter exploded, before quickly dying down as Sedren frowned. "I fought with him, pushed myself to exhaustion with him and believe me - there is nothing evil about him, there is nothing disloyal - Lieutenant Legolas showed his skill as a commander to me that day and I had no need to listen to the Inner Circle's judgement, for I already knew I fought beside the greatest warrior this land has ever seen."
Galadan's eyes lingered on Legolas for a moment, watching as the Silvan nodded solemnly at him, not in arrogance but in gratitude for his words.
Silor shot one, last irate glare at Legolas, before turning on his heel and leaving the circle.
Thranduil shot a questioning glance at Elladan, for he would not have heard the details of that ill-fated journey.
"Are there any others that would speak?" asked Sedren.
Everyone was sure that Bandorion would have one final attempt at persuading the Council, but to their shock, he remained seated and Handir's brow furrowed for it did not make sense. Surely he had not admitted defeat?
"It is time to vote. Please stand and state 'aye' or 'nay'.
Legolas took a deep breath as one by one, the Councillors stood and spoke, and with every 'aye' it became harder for him to hide his emotions, and when it was over and the count was seventeen in favour and three against, Sedren made the declaration.
"The Permanent Council has spoken. Greenwood the Great shall reinstate the figure of the Warlord, a role that is to be carried out by Lord Legolas Thranduilion, pending further negotiations with the Silvan Council. Let it be known!"
Suddenly, all eyes were upon him, he could feel them waiting for him to speak, only this time, for the first time, they did not look upon him in disdain but in respect.
He stood and moved into the circle, heart pumping furiously as his mind struggled to centre itself.
"I beg forgiveness, my Lords, for I am no statesman, like my brother," he began softly, timidly. "I am a humble elf, an illegitimate child, the son of a king and brother of princes. I am Silvan and I am Sindarin, and in my heart so too, am I Avarin," he said, his eyes now trained on the councillors around him.
"I do not seek to offend you, although I know that is the case nonetheless and I wonder, if we cannot work this out?" he paused here, for words were suddenly flowing, words he could not be sure would be appropriate - but they were all he had and so he said them anyway, his voice rising in volume as his heart took the reins and stamped upon them all the emotions that now ran wild, unfiltered, unchecked.
"You see my blood is, indeed, mixed, yet in this mixture is the essence of both a Silvan and Sindarin soul. I cannot be one without the other - what I am trying to say, my Lords, is that I cannot betray my people without betraying myself. Above all things, I am a warrior. 'Tis how I was born, with an image so clear in my mind, a goal I never once questioned," he explained, his voice gaining momentum and strength and the councillors around him sat forward, their eyes gleaming in anticipation and rising interest.
"I will strive to make this land great once more, if you will let me, that we be rid of evil, make safe our lands and our crops, return our sense of pride in what we once were, what we will be again. One nation of many colours, varied and exotic, fascinating and just, where everyone wishes to dwell for here, they will say, live the Silvan Wood-elves, the Avarin mystics and the mighty Sindar!"
A clamorous roar of deeply felt pride and exhilaration resounded through the hall as everyone stood as one, and then moved forward to congratulate a stunned Legolas, who soon disappeared amongst the throng of elves.
Thranduil smiled, before turning to Mithrandir and then Glorfindel, and nodding slowly at them both, a silent thank you that the Maia and the Commander understood, and returned with a wise smile of their own.
The crowd, now larger and louder as they chattered excitedly, smiled and laughed in utter relief, it seemed, because it was finally over, the Greenwood had been given another chance for a better, more just society, one they all wanted, and thus, the circle tightened - a circle of hopeful fraternity, and for the first time in his life, Legolas felt that he belonged, that he was finally accepted, that he served a purpose, and never again would he let go of that feeling.
TSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTS
"Why did you not speak? spat Barathon angrily as he turned on his father. "All is lost and that bastard has secured his claim!" he raged, unaware in his anger, that his father's mood had turned passing strange. Draugole, however, had not missed it and his face paled dramatically of a sudden.
"Calm yourself, Barathon. It was no longer the time. Our objections were clearly not seconded - there is no more we can do within the Permanent Council..."
"So we just sit back and let him win? He who sent her away and with her, turned my father into the bitter, ruthless elf he is today?" raged the Sinda.
Draugole closed his eyes in dread, for this conversation was way overdue, he realised. It had gone undressed and had festered and now, Bandorion seemed lost.
"You will be quiet!!!" roared Bandorion. "What do you know of my heart? What do you know of sacrifice?! You know nothing!" he shouted, turning to face his son.
"I know enough, have seen enough - suffered enough...."
"You do not know the meaning of the word..." said Bandorion calmly now as he looked into his son's eyes, "to suffer, to really suffer..." he trailed off and then stared into the distance, as if he remembered, as if he saw things from long ago and Barathon seemed to realise it was useless to continue.
"You yield and he has won..." said Barathon in defeat, his own anger slowly draining away and with it, came the sudden realisation that something was wrong with his father.
"No," came the soft answer. "I do not yield, for to do so implies I have something to lose - and I do not. It is all lost, has been since the day she left. Whatever I do now can take nothing from me save my life, and that - to me - is worthless..."
"Bandorion," said Draugole warningly, but he was pointedly ignored.
Barathon frowned deeply and turned to his father in askance. "What is it you are thinking, father?" he asked worriedly.
"He came back to haunt me," whispered Bandorion, his eyes wide and unfocussed, "a ghost from the past, a reminder of my pain, my loss, my shame.... I must have peace, Barathon; I must fix the mistake I made, the mistake that took my glorious queen from my side..."
"Father..." there was a warning in Barathon's voice too now, warning and dread for there was no mistaking the meaning of his father's words and he turned his desperate face to Draugole, as if he could, perhaps, pull his father back from the precipice.
"Son - forgive me - forgive my selfish heart, for not making room for you, for it was so full of her," he whispered, his eyes bright and brimming with the pain of centuries of pent up grief - unrequited love.
"Aglareb ..." he whispered in awe.
"Don't?" came Barathon's soft, vulnerable voice, but Bandorion simply stared back at his son with a soft yet sad smile.
"I am already dead, Barathon.... "
TSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTST
"Lassion!"
The guards stood straighter, taller, wishing perhaps that the clamour of voices in the Council Hall would cease, for someone was shouting.
"Lassion!"
They looked at each other in mounting alarm, before one ran forward to find the king.
"Lassion!!" came the booming voice, deep and angry, wrathful.
"What is that?" asked Thranduil as Mithrandir and Glorfindel came to join him.
"Lassion!!" came the voice, louder now and the noise in the Council Hall subsided until it became nothing, all eyes facing the entrance as a guard rushed to the king, too late to warn him now.
"Lassion!!!"
There were gasps and panicked faces as the imposing figure of Bandorion, brother of Oropher, stood in the doorway, two mighty spears in his hand - a sight that had not been seen in many centuries, for Bandorion had once been a mighty warrior, albeit there were not many that remembered, for ever had he lived in the shadow of his hallowed brother.
Thranduil's eyes widened in shock at the sight of his uncle, for he had never seen him like this; wild and unleashed, the warrior he had once been yet his control had gone for his eyes were mad and his mind absent - only his heart spoke, it seemed, and Thranduil reached for the pommel of his sword.
"Lassion! Come to me!" he said from afar.
Those still standing around Legolas quickly moved back, all except The Company, who stood before him, shielding him as they watched, reaching for their weapons and slowly, menacingly, drawing them with a screech that promised bloody retribution should they touch Legolas.
Thranduil watched his enraged uncle, ready to call the guard but his eyes momentarily caught sight of a frantic Barathon and Draugole, the darker Sinda desperately clutching at Barathon's sleeve to stop him from rushing to his father's side.
"I demand Baudh Gwaith," he thundered and the councillors gasped in horror at his words. Baudh Gwaith - the people's judgement, an archaic system that warriors used to solve otherwise unsolvable issues amongst themselves. It was hardly ever used now for it was deemed barbaric, for the fight, if accepted by both sides, was to the death.
"No!" answered the king, his face drawn back into a snarl. "You will not touch my son."
"You cannot refuse, 'tis Sindarin law between warriors. I demand he face me, that the Valar may guide the hand of who is just and right."
"I said no," repeated Thranduil but Bandorion was walking forwards. "Only he," gestured Bandorion towards Legolas with his spears, "can refuse and should he, I will stand down, but when he hears what I will tell him believe me, he will not..."
Thranduil's heart hammered in his chest, for Bandorion would surely bait his son until his pride and honour were roused and he would not stand down for although he did not know Legolas well, he knew what Rinion would do... his head whipped to Legolas, standing together with the Company, desperately seeking his son's eyes, but the Silvan would not look at him, instead his own, strange green eyes bored challengingly into the mad, shaking face of Bandorion.
"Speak!" shouted Legolas, his voice powerful and commanding.
"Did you ever wonder? bastard? Wonder why your mother faded, even though she had a child?" asked Bandorion calmly as he slowly approached Legolas and the Company stiffened as their knuckles whitened upon their swords and knives.
Thranduil's blood rushed too quickly through his veins and his ears throbbed in time with his labouring heart - Bandorion was going to tell him, and there would be no going back...
"Did you not ask yourself why you were not enough to keep her here? Did you think perhaps that you had not been enough for her - did you feel hurt and ashamed?" asked Bandorion, a cruel smile spreading on his lips as the purposefully hurtful words spilled from his twisted lips.
"Stand down," murmured Legolas to the Company, but they did not move and so he turned to them, his eyes commanding. "Do as I say - stand down," he repeated calmly, and they did, reticently and slowly, they backed away but their hands did not move from the pommels of their swords.
"It will please you then, to know that she did not fade...."
There were hisses and gasps and even cries of shock but Bandorion had not finished.
"I know this, without the slightest shadow of a doubt.... because I killed her...."
Screams and shouts of outrage erupted around them but Bandorion had eyes only for Legolas.
Thranduil stepped closer, slowly, his eyes wide and full of hurt and disbelief for although Amareth had already told him she had been murdered, the perpetrator had remained a mystery - until now. "Legolas. Do not listen to him, do not let him goad you - if you engage him this can only end in death..."
"I know," came Legolas' whispered words - and there it was, emotion - Legolas was no longer the cool, calm and deadly warrior he was renowned to be but a seething cauldron of rising ire; there was nothing more Thranduil could do except watch and hope that the rumours of his son's skill were true.
"Why?" snarled Legolas at Bandorion. "Why did you kill my mother?"
"Because - I thought I was killing you, in her arms - it was you I sought to kill."
Legolas was slowly losing the battle and his eyes were wide with disbelief. "Why would you kill a babe...." he asked in disbelief.
"Why?" Bandorion broke into loud guffaws of bitter laughter. "Because you killed her heart, you stabbed her with your simple presence, as surely as if you had plunged a dagger into it. With you she began to fade and all I wanted was to destroy that which had destroyed her for you see - Aglareb," he could not finish for the queen's name on his lips made his voice hitch and his throat close.
"You loved her..." said Legolas in shock.
"I loved her, and she loved him!" thundered Bandorion as he pointed his spear at the king and Glorfindel moved to stand before him, his face alight and terrifying, but the enraged Sinda was too far gone to care.
"But at least, I had her close to me, even though I knew I could never have her...but the threat of losing her, her pain which I felt as my own ... I could not fathom..."
"You killed my mother..." said Legolas flatly and Thranduil closed his eyes in dread.
"Yes, although it was you I sought - and yet here you are, enraged and before me, at my mercy for now I will avenge Aglareb, and when it is done I will have peace..."
Legolas' face hardened and Glorfindel saw it.
"Legolas. You do not have to do this, let the guards take him away..." he tried.
"No."
"My son," cried Thranduil as Rinion and Handir came to stand at his shoulder, both placing a calming hand on his shoulders, albeit their own faces was the very picture of shock and alarm.
"Baudh Gwaith you say? The People's justice?" asked Legolas. "I will tell you what it shall be, Bandorion - kinslayer - ," he hissed, "for there is indeed vengeance to be had, the vengeance of the Silvan people, vengeance I will deliver in their name..."
Bandorion snarled and smiled at the same time as he threw one of his long spears at Legolas. "I am told you have some skill with it. Prove it!"
"Guards!" shouted Thranduil hoping to arrest Bandorion before they could engage but it was too late, for the whirl of wood through air rung in their ears and the mighty Sindarin spears where widening the circle of shocked elves who stumbled backwards as the dual began.
Legolas ripped the cloak from his back and right at that instant, Bandorion swiped forward and landed a heavy blow across Legolas' head, sending him reeling to the side.
Shouts of outrage did not deter him though, and neither could the guards, for a dual with spears was nigh impossible to break up.
Standing back up and wiping the trickle of blood away from his eyes, Legolas smiled and cocked his head to the side, before hoisting his spear aloft and beginning his deadly dance. Glorfindel watched from the side, mentally going through the moves he would execute were it him facing Bandorion, and then smiling in grim satisfaction when Legolas did just that. Squatting low, he held the spear parallel to his arm as the other stretched backwards, palm towards his enemy and Bandorion was momentarily confused. Pivoting upon his heel, Legolas swiped his spear in a wide arc, knocking the feet from under the Sinda who fell to the floor and rolled away defensively before taking up his stance once more.
Again he lunged forward and Legolas spun to the side, landing lightly off to the left before whirling towards his opponent and attacking.
From there, they began to fight in earnest, attack and parry, counter attack and counter move. Wood clashed violently with wood, fast and furious, powerful - every blow potentially fatal as the two elves spun around each other, widening the circle of onlookers as they fought, as if in battle. It was brutal and terrifying and yet mesmerising, hypnotic almost.
Glorfindel's eyes were wide as he chanted the moves he knew Legolas should make, and beside him, Thranduil stood rigid and disbelieving. Idhrenohtar looked ready to rush into the centre and slice Bandorion's head off, but Ram en' Ondo held him back.
The tip of one spear ripped through the cloth of a sleeve, drawing a bloody line before the elf danced to one side and landed a blow on his opponent, the spear glancing off his shoulder and ripping his tunic, and then a mighty thud was heard as wood impacted with hard muscle and a whoosh of air followed, but the killing blow did not come, for the elf was no longer where they should have been - Legolas had been faster and when he saw his opening, he seized it, countering a low strike and catapulting himself over Bandorion and then taking him from behind, his spear pressed over Bandorion's chest, his mouth close to his ear.
"She still left though, didn't she - why? Why did she leave her own children behind?" snarled Legolas as he breathed harshly, his own blood dripping onto Bandorion's shoulder.
A backward jab of his elbow caught Legolas in the wrong place and he stumbled back, winded once more.
"She left because she found out - that I had killed that bitch you call mother..." he raged.
With a mighty cry of rage and frustration, Legolas charged forward and struck once, twice, thrice until Bandorion was reeling backwards, unable to stop the whirlwind of utter fury that pressed against him, until he tripped and fell, and the tip of Legolas' spear sat hovering over his heart, his beautiful, terrifying face looking down at him in utter rage.
"Do it - end it, kill this body for my heart and my soul have been dead for many years..."
"Father.." came the shaky voice of Barathon from amidst the horrified onlookers and Legolas' eyes snapped to Bandorion's son. He seemed so young, so vulnerable - a child who fears the loss of a father and not the arrogant, incompetent Captain that had made his life a misery ...
"No," said Legolas.
"Do it! - kill me because if you do not - I will kill you, here or in Valinor, I will seek you out and end your life..."
There was a presence at his shoulder then, strong and powerful and Legolas turned his head only minutely, enough to know it was the king - his father.
"This is Baudh Gwaith - there is no return..." he murmured.
"But his son..." came Legolas' soft voice.
"He lost his father many years ago, didn't you - Barathon?"
Barathon's eyes looked at the king, open and raw, while Legolas' returned to those of Bandorion upon the ground and his hand tightened around the wood of his spear.
"It is our way, Legolas. He knew what he did when he challenged you - give him peace now," murmured the king.
"I can't," he whispered. "He did this for love - he killed my mother for the love of Aglareb. It drove him to madness and cruelty but it was for the sake of love... I can't."
"But I can," whispered Thranduil as he placed both hands over Legolas' upon the spear.
"For love," he smiled as he thrust their hands down, until the sound of a breaking heart rent the air and Bandorion's final breath died in their ears.
Barathon's wail of defeat and grief snapped them out of their stupor, and Thranduil pulled the spear from his uncles body, feeling his son's hands grow limp as he let go.
The Company rushed forward as one, pulling Legolas away from the mess, as guards gathered around the king.
"Take this traitor to the Healing Halls and prepare him for immediate burial, and place Barathon under house arrest until further notice. And clean this," he gestured to the pool of blood that had collected under the now inert body of Bandorion.
"Oh, and bring that spear to me, when it has been cleaned," he said as a side thought.
Saluting, they went about their business and the king's eyes sought out Legolas, who stood quietly amidst his warrior friends, still struggling for breath.
"Legolas. Come - we have much to discuss," he said calmly but authoritatively, for he could not allow his child to escape him now. It was the moment to talk, so that his sons could finally understand why Thranduil had done what he had, he could not risk Legolas' anger and incomprehension, not after having achieved so much.
"Elladan, join us?" asked the king rhetorically as he turned then to Glorfindel. "You too, my friend, for he may need you - more than he does me at this moment."
Glorfindel stared into Thranduil's eyes with newly-found respect. He had not expected the king to do what he had, what he himself would have done. This king was strong, ruthless when the need arose for he had slain his own uncle, not only for vengeance, he wagered, but because Bandorion had not spoken in vain - Legolas would never be safe had he been left to live.
As they walked to the king's quarters, Glorfindel watched Legolas. His eyes were far away and he walked as one lost, for he paid no attention to his surroundings at all and he wondered for a moment, if that crack to the head had addled him.
Once inside the room, the door closed firmly, they all sat and breathed deeply as the silence stretched on. Handir and Rinion shared apprehensive looks, while Glorfindel watched as Elladan inspected his absent friend's rapidly bruising head.
Thranduil however, simply sat the wine decanter upon the table and poured a handsome glass, holding it out for Legolas to take.
"Drink, and listen," he commanded. Glorfindel was about to protest his tone but something told him not to, that perhaps he was right to ensure that his sons heard him out - after all, he had just found out his lover had been killed, and by his uncle no less, whom he had then killed in Baudh Gwaith.
"Elladan," called the king, "is he well enough to stay here?" asked the king, his eyes moving from the cut on his head to the slash on his upper arm.
"He is well enough," replied Elladan as he worked on Legolas' injuries.
"My sons - it is time to speak of that which has always hung around us like poison, pulling us apart for you did not understand, and I was too broken to even try and explain it - the time has come for you to know of the relationship I shared with Aglareb, your mother," he said as he turned to Rinion and Handir, "and Lassiel - your mother," he said as he turned to Legolas, who still stared off into space.
"I will tell you all I know but I warn you now, there is more that I do not know, for I believe Bandorion will have taken his own secrets to the grave with him. Are you prepared to listen? With open hearts and not judge me until I have finished?" asked Thranduil, his eyes lingering on Rinion for a moment longer than the rest.
"I would here it all," said Rinion, and Handir nodded his agreement. Legolas however, simply turned his head without meeting his father's eyes, and nodded.
"Very well. This, is the story of two, great women..."