Title: Tortuous Paths (6/?)

Author: Haz 

Author email: hazandcas@yahoo.com

Rating: PG-13 for this part

Genre/ Warning: slash, incest, hurt/comfort, angst, romance, (possibly 
NCS and torture later on, not all at the same time of course. Still
anyone 
here ?

Pairings: Legolas/Haldir (overall), Haldir/Orophin in this part. 

Summary: very difficult to provide a summary, as I plan to write a
very long story and might change the course of events according to the
wishes and suggestions of the readers. (So you decide !). At the beginning,
the story is set in Lorien. Haldir returns home after some mysterious
events kept him away for quite a long time.

Disclaimer: Much as I hate to admit it, none of these gorgeous
characters are mine. Not even sexy Haldir. They are creations of J.R.R. Tolkien 
and/or Peter Jackson. Don't sue, no money made !

Authors Note : this is my first LOTR fic AND slash fic. Also I am not
a native speaker. If you don't run away from your computer at the
horror, I hope you'll enjoy the story. Any comments and suggestions will be more 
than welcome (I don't really feel like asking my family their opinion
on my work…). Originally written for the Haldir-Lives challenge.

Beta-ed by Tessy: Thanks! 



Chapter 6 : Year 2968 of the Third Age, Imladris.

 

"Who is Haldir of Lorien?"

At hearing those words fall from Legolas’s mouth, Arwen almost spilled
the contents of her glass over her silken dress. She quickly composed
herself but instantly knew by the look on the blond Prince’s face that
he had noticed the effect of his question on her.

In spite of that, she was determined to try and answer in a most
neutral manner, knowing that if she did not, Legolas might become even
more suspicious, and that was something she had to avoid at all costs.

"Haldir is the captain of the Lorien guard" She managed to answer in a
slightly strained voice.

Legolas seemed to consider her words for a while, then added.

"Do I know him? Have I ever been to Lorien".

Arwen did not at all like the direction the conversation was taking.
Her father had hidden nothing from her about Legolas and Haldir's
mishaps, clearly stressing the fact that Legolas had to be kept from
anything which might enable him to remember this particularly dramatic
episode of his life. She briefly wondered how the Mirkwood Elf had
come to learn about Haldir, but she dared not ask him. Shifting
uneasily on the bench where they both sat, Arwen wished someone would
enter the veranda and hopefully divert Legolas’s attention from the
current topic. But unless a miracle met her silent prayer with perfect
timing, she could not refrain much longer from answering the young
Prince .

"I suppose you do, yes. Mirkwood and Lorien are not that far apart.
But I cannot assure you of that". Oh Elbereth, how she hated telling
lies,  especially to a friend!

"Supposing I do or do not know him, why did my question seem to
startle you?"

Legolas’s voice was still calm, but Arwen should have known that he
would not have let the matter slip away so easily. She started
fidgeting, struggling hard to try to find a more appropriate answer as
quickly as possible. Then a sudden idea crossed her mind, and she
silently thanked the Valar for providing her with such inspiration.

"If you really must know then….. Haldir and I used to be… intimate"
Arwen answered, and she even managed to summon a charming and very
convincing blush to further enhance her words, which was not so
difficult considering that she was boldly lying, something the upright
maiden was not in the least prone to do.

"Oh! I am sorry, I did not mean to be intrusive…." Legolas immediately
apologized, losing some of his previous composure.

Arwen felt extremely relieved, at least he seemed to believe her.

"I know. This is nothing to worry about. It’s been such a long time,
that’s all". Arwen hoped that the question would be settled now, but
unfortunately Legolas got the conversation moving again, and the
subject was no less touchy.

"It’s just that I heard our fathers say his name and they seemed
worried when they noticed I was listening. I know they are hiding many
things from me and I thought that, perhaps, this… Haldir… had
something to do with …well… you know what I mean."

She knew what he meant indeed, for although he had amnesia, Legolas
was none the less the same clever and intuitive person as ever, and
she had no doubt that it had not taken long for him to figure out that
all the explanations he had been given about what had generated his
current condition were nothing but lies. Out of respect for his
father’s love and for the Imladrian Lord’s wisdom, out of politeness,
out of fear perhaps, he had said nothing until this moment. And
Legolas understood in this moment that for the very same reasons,
Arwen would not say anything either.

Arwen knew he knew. And Legolas knew Arwen knew he knew. So for a
fleeting moment there was a flash of understanding and acceptance
passing between clear blue and deep blue eyes, just before Legolas
stood up, giving Arwen a wan smile and heading off towards the
buildings. If he wanted to get answers, he knew whom to ask.

Entering Elrond’s study with the conviction that the Imladrian Lord
and his father would be there, Legolas realized only too late that he
had forgotten to knock. Two pairs of eyes were raised from an
impressive pile of paperwork and Legolas noticed in the moss green
gaze of Thranduil something that could not be mistaken for anything
but fearful concern. The young prince had noticed that his father was
very jumpy as of late, and briefly wondered if this was only the
consequence of the recent events or a usual trait of his personality.
**Once again** he bitterly added in his mind **I cannot tell**… Any
doubts he may have had left suddenly vanished at this thought, and
Legolas raised his chin in a determined _expression, preparing to
confront a situation he knew would be difficult.

"My lords, I apologize for not announcing my presence. Forgive my
intrusion but I would like to speak to you if you can spare me some
time."

Both Elrond and Thranduil immediately set aside the scrolls they had
been holding, taking in Legolas resolute look and briefly glancing at
each other, obviously worried at the turn the events were taking.
Observing the proprieties, Thranduil let Elrond speak first.

"Legolas, please have a seat. You have our full attention, pen-neth…"

Elrond’s term of endearment was not lost to Legolas. He knew the Elven
Lord felt great tenderness towards him and this did not make things
easier. For Legolas, as much has he wanted to obtain answers, would do
nothing to place Elrond in an uncomfortable situation, or force
explanations from the Elf at the risk of appearing disrespectful. But
he had to try…

"I thank you my Lord, but I would rather remain standing if you do not
mind"

Elrond merely nodded, and then it was Thranduil’s turn to inquire.

"What would you like to ask us, lass-nin?"

Legolas thought that being straightforward was probably the best
option he had.

"The truth." he simply said.

At the exact moment those words were uttered, something changed in the
room. Everything froze, nothing moved, nobody spoke, the silence was
heavy, almost deafening. They kept on staring wordlessly at each
others without daring to do anything. The room was colder, as if the
temperature had dropped suddenly. The elder elves were stunned for
several seconds, neither of them prepared for such a question. Neither
of them ready to answer a question they had not anticipated. Taking
advantage of the two lords' surprise to prevent any refusal, Legolas
followed:

"I mean no offense my Lords. I am not implying that you were lying to
me. But I know that you are hiding things from me, for my own sake.
Still I need to know, because I fear that not knowing , apart from not
"remembering", will only make things worse to me".

Thranduil, having been startled, immediately broke in.

"Legolas…. Child….. it is not that we don’t want to tell you. But
telling you would mean endangering you. You must understand that"

Legolas pondered over his next words for a moment

"Father, I may be your son and I know that you want to protect me. But
even though I am amnesic, I am not incoherent. I am an adult and I
guess I have the right to make my own choices."

Thranduil reacted strongly, almost as if Legolas had just told him
that he wanted to throw himself from the window, and an insane
_expression reached his eyes when he added, practically shouting "When
I said danger Legolas, I meant death! Are you sure you have weighed
all the consequences of your decision! Do you really believe I would
hide the truth from you if I did not have good reasons to do so?"

Legolas was taken aback by his father’s reaction. For Thranduil to
lose his temper like this, things were certainly worse than he
thought. Yet he still wanted to know. For the last few days he had
been consumed by a nagging feeling of helplessness, sensing in every
elf he came to be near a persistent aura of fear, of denial, as if
everyone knew something he did not, and after considering the
situation more carefully, he had understood that this was precisely
the case. Being nobody was a burden he had silently carried. But
knowing that others were hiding the truth from him was simply
unbearable. His decision was made, and Thranduil’s yelling would not
deter his resolution.

Holding his father’s gaze with a surprising calmness, Legolas answered
in an icy tone.

"I could tell you that I am no coward, father, but that would sound
hollow because in fact I do not know if I am one or not. So pray tell
me my King" – Thranduil flinched at the emphasis the young Prince put
on the title – "Have I ever done anything in my former life that would
have earned me this name? For if the answer is no, I refuse to begin
acting cowardly now. Am I in any peril of death? Very well then, I’ll
fight this peril as I would my worst enemy. But I need to know."
Legolas paused, then added "Now."

Thranduil’s face had turned paler than usual and for the first time
since the day Elrond had met him, he seemed to be at a loss, which
prompted the dark-haired Peredhil to step in.

"Legolas you have always been a worthy Elf and courageous warrior. And
as much as I understand your desire to be told the truth, I am afraid
I have to second your father in this matter. The peril you are faced
with, Legolas, is worse than what you can imagine. For if I do believe
that you could gather enough strength and intelligence to defeat an
army of Orcs, I fear there is no one on Arda who can fight against
himself. Above all if the self refuses to take part in the fight."

As was always the case, Elrond had taken great care in choosing the
right words to say: while he clearly stood on the side of Thranduil in
that very delicate matter, the dark-haired lord had subtly emphasized
the fact that he understood Legolas' motives as well. And in any case
Legolas had clearly understood that Elrond would not over step into
his father's territory.

Death... an unfamiliar concept for an elf. Yet Legolas  knew
intimately that a part of him was already dead. And that part was the
core of his being, the mere foundation of his existence. Should he try
to blackmail the two Lords to obtain what he wanted? There was no need
to do so, for the young prince knew by the nagging feeling he had been
experiencing for weeks that should he learn the truth being kept
hidden from him, the result would be the same. He would be fading. And
nothing could be done about it. Gathering the last remnants of his
conviction, Legolas looked at his father and at Elrond,and in the
chilly silence of the room, it seemed that his words echoed even more
clearly and harshly.

"Father, my Lord.. Just imagine that you are amnesic. The only thing
you want, the only thing you live for is to be able to remember who
you are, your life, all that shaped you into the being you are. Yet,
the people around you, the people who claim they love you and for whom
you have the greatest respect refuse to tell you the truth. Stating it
is for your own sake..."

With these words Legolas turned towards his father, settling eyes on
the blond King’s, who suddenly looked both confused and trapped...
Then Legolas went one, absentmindedly tugging some hair behind his
ear, a clear sign of the state of nervousness he was in.

" I am no fool, at least you can be assured of that. I understand that
I am faced with something quite terrible for you to mention death. Did
my soul mate die? Worse, did I kill someone dear, a friend, a
relative? Was I tortured or raped? For I can think of no other reasons
which could account for your silence. So I am not asking you what
caused my amnesia, for I have guessed already, whether it be one
possibility or the others".

Legolas had no idea how true his words rang in that very moment, and
Elrond felt cold in spite of the warm autumn breeze caressing his back
and shoulders from the open window behind him.The blond Prince,
oblivious to the effect his words were having on the two Elves facing
him, delivered the last blow.

"Yet, knowing that, does not deter my desire to know, and I am ready
to face any consequence. For believe me, I truly feel dead inside
already, and the only way for me to be able to heal and start anew is
to accept and bury the past. So I pray you one last time -Legolas
waved his hand- help me do exactly this: please tell me!"

Thranduil could not avert his eyes from his son's intense gaze. It
seemed to him that his Greenleaf had poured in the clear blue orbs of
his all the passion, pain and hope he felt deep inside. He, Thranduil
Oropherion, King of the mighty realm of Mirkwood, a powerful warrior
among his kin, suddenly felt truly powerless, reduced to a bundle of
confusion, fear and love for the most precious thing in his life, his
beloved son. How could he leave him suffer like this? And how could he
tell him the truth and risk losing him? Thranduil knew he was being an
egoist, that he placed his own feeling before his son's. But if he
withheld much longer the keys to his son's past he would only earn his
bitterness and resentment: instead of losing a loving son, he would
have a bitter one. The thin boundaries between what he had wished to
stand up to and what his son was desperately asking him were reduced
to a heap of ashes in that very moment, and Thranduil eventually
admitted his defeat.

Motioning to Legolas for a chair, Thranduil exchanged a look with
Elrond and the Peredhel silently understood and nodded. When they were
all seated, Thranduil began speaking in a low, almost hesitant voice:

"Three years ago my son, you expressed the desire to go and spend some
time in Lorien. You had already been there of course, but for short
periods of time only. This time you asked me to relieve you of your
duties for a longer time and I willingly complied, knowing that being
allowed to train with the Galadhrim was a great honour as well as a
great opportunity for the future king of our realm. My friend Celeborn
and the lady Galadriel welcomed you as their own son, and took great
pride in seeing your ability with bow and arrow gradually improve and
match that of their most skillful archers. I came twice during your
stay, entrusting the ruling of Mirkwood to your elder brother, and was
able to see for myself how my slightly introverted Greenleaf was
becoming an accomplished warrior, greatly loved and respected by his
companions. Then... –

Thranduil cleared his throat and cast a sidelong glance at Elrond,
silently begging him not to contradict what he was about to say, not
to intervene when Thranduil pretended that he did not know the
identity of Legolas's captor –

"Then one year ago, the inexplicable happened. I was sitting in my
study when a horrible feeling of dread seized my heart; immediately
after I could feel Celeborn's presence around me, and when I
understood that he was farspeaking me - a thing he seldom did - I knew
something was wrong. Celeborn informed me that you had never come back
from your patrol on the outskirts of the Golden Wood, and that the
riding party which had been sent to search you only found your weapons
scattered on the ground, with evidence of a struggle. There was
nothing else, no clue as to what had befallen you; yet Celeborn
stressed the fact that no traces of blood were visible, leaving us
with the hope that you were still alive. Three seasons passed, my son,
three endless seasons and though all the Elven realms and our human
allies had been warned that the Prince of Mirkwood had disappeared, no
one could gather any information. Galadriel looked into her mirror but
while she was adamant that you were not dead, she could not see
anything either. The strangest thing was that, while we all eventually
admitted that you were being held captive, we could not figure out why
nobody had asked for a ransom by then.Yet we never stopped looking for
you Legolas, and I never gave up hope that someday you would somehow
return to us. Which you did, in a way..."

Legolas cast a questioning glance at his father, feeling as though
Thranduil was speaking of another, for his father's words evoked
absolutely nothing in his mind.

"You did return, but to Imladris. Lord Glorfindel, whom I assume
you've already met, found you one day near the Bruinen. You were
mounted on an exhausted horse, and the Valar only know how you made it
to Imladris because you were barely conscious yourself, my son. You
had a poison induced fever - as Lord Elrond was able to determine
after he took you to the healing house - and there were clear signs
that you had been restrained and... Thranduil visibly flinched...
abused."

"Do not worry father. I had already guessed". Legolas's voice was icy
cold, but strangely enough he did not seem much affected by the
revelations. He seemed eager for his father to end the story.

"Elrond sent for me and used all his healing abilities to save you. He
feared for your death, Legolas. You had fallen into a lasting
unconscious state and the few times you seemed to come back to some
semblance of consciousness, you were thrashing and screaming so loud
that I had to restrain you while Elrond gave you narcotics. Then the
fever gradually abated, and shortly after you came back to your senses
we discovered that all the memories of your former life had been
erased from your mind". Thranduil heaved a sigh and concluded. "from
then on you know what happened as well as I do. And I am afraid you
only know what really happened during your time as a hostage... but
it's locked inside your mind now. Let me simply add that if we decided
to hide the truth from you, it is only because we feared that if your
memories returned you would fade so quickly that even Elrond would be
able to do nothing to call you back from the Halls of Waiting".

Legolas looked grave and when he turned his gaze to Elrond, the
Peredhel felt the need to clarify a few things without Legolas ever
needing to ask. Setting aside his own contradictory feelings, he
recounted once again the events that lead to the loss of the second
greatest love of his life and the sorrowful end of Linwe. From time to
time, the young Prince, who had cast his eyes down, slowly nodded his
head in a sign of compassion as well as - but that was Elrond's
personal interpretation- in understanding of all the implications his
current predicament had. When Elrond had completed the story, Legolas
raised his eyes again and after looking straight at his father, he
addressed Elrond

"It is strange, is it not, that even though you have given me a sketch
of the events I still can not relate to them in any way. I understand
that what has happened is extremely grave, but I do not feel the
impact of your revelations on me. How is that?"

Elrond's worried look stood in sharp contrast with Legolas's almost
hopeful tone. He could not let the young one be misled, which prompted
him not to let any hope linger.

"Legolas, "learning" what has happened to you and "remembering" are
not the same. What is more, we do not exactly know the real extent of
the suffering you went through, my child. -Oh, how much he hated
uttering such blatant lies - Haldir's descriptions had been clear
enough and he could not look at the Prince without feeling a pang in
his heart... Yet he had to stick to Thranduil's version for now, even
though he wondered why the Sindar had not mentioned Haldir.. He would
need to talk to him in private afterwards - " I fear that if one day
you actually remember, things could be worse than anything you might
now imagine, without all the elements in your hand" Elrond's voice
trailed.

"And what do you think I should do, my Lord"

Legolas' words sounded like a bitter echo of Thranduil's very words
when Elrond had explained to him the gravity of the situation. The
King himself started when he heard them, and Elrond could do nothing
but to repeat to the worried son exactly what he had told the panicked
father. Standing up, Elrond started speaking in grave, low voice.

"The choice is yours only Legolas, but be warned that the longer you
wait, the more you try to remember your past, the more you place
yourself in great danger, child. You may never be able to remember
anything, and there is also a very tiny chance that though you may
remember, this might not affect you to the point of fading, but I
greatly doubt either of those two options. The safest thing would be
to sail to Valinor, and as much as I understand that both you and your
father may loathe this option, I am still convinced that it is the
only way to keep you safe until you are eventually reunited again."

With that the Lord of Imladris sat down again, looking greatly
distressed. As a healer, he wished it was not always his role to
deliver bad news and that he could know a way to solve things without
having to resort to such dramatic extremes, but helplessness was
something he had gotten accustomed to where fate was concerned, and
Thranduil was soon to experience it as well, for he hoped that Legolas
would choose the wisest course of events and agree to eventually leave
the shores of Arda.

As for Thranduil, without consciously admitting it, he had already
surrendered to his son’s decision and eventually accepted that he was
no longer an elfling, nor an incapacitated person whom he had to
decide for. If he were to lose Legolas, there was no doubt the King of
Mirkwood would ever feel completely whole again. But then he had had
to face a similar situation when his beloved wife had sailed West as
well. And knowing that Legolas would be reunited with his mother - and
that in the end they would all be together - would slightly alleviate
his grief.

In that moment, two of the mightiest Elven Lords were dreading the
next words which would fall from a young, blond Prince's mouth. One of
them wishing he would wisely decide to leave, the other foolishly
clinging to the tiny hope that he would choose to stay and that
everything would be fine.

His eyes cast down, Legolas could nevertheless feel the smoldering
gazes which were directed at his lithe form, striving to interpret the
slightest movement, the tiniest indication that a decision had finally
been made within his heart and mind. He absentmindedly picked up a
little piece of wax which had fallen from the candle holder onto the
desk and started kneading it between his fingers. Strangely enough,
the molten dough reminded him of his present life, just as
transluscent and shapeless as he felt at present, and just as isolated
as well. He was a Prince, they had said. A respected Prince and
skilled bowman from a distant Elven kingdom called Mirkwood. And he
had brothers. A family.... Legolas knew that even if he tried to press
it hard onto the candle, the little drop of wax would never fully
incorporate with it again. But maybe the warmth of his family and
people’s love could melt his ice cold heart and make him feel,at least
for a short while, like part of the whole again.

"There are many subtle ways, I guess, to deliver bad news" Legolas
began in a whisper. He raised his head and tossed the wax aside, his
voice becoming more audible. "But things being as they are, I can
think of none, and I am afraid my Lords that I am about to disappoint
both of you". Elrond and Thranduil exchanged puzzled looks.

"I have heard your arguments well, and I agree with you, Lord Elrond,
that the safest choice would be to sail to Valinor, where I could
patiently wait to be reunited with my loved ones. But what hope would
there be, I ask of you, if I do not even remember the faces of the
ones I am supposed to be waiting for on the shore? What joy would
there be, if I live with the knowledge that one day I might walk past
my own brother in the evergreen meadows and fail to recognize him. How
could I find the strength to live a life of expectancy if I do not
even know what I am expecting? How could I achieve peace of mind?"

Taking a few seconds to regain his composure after his unexpected
emotional outburst, Legolas directly addressed Thranduil in a softer,
graver voice.

"I am afraid I will somewhat disappoint you father, but despite
everything I have just said, I have made up my mind. I will sail to
Valinor, for I trust Lord Elrond’s wisdom and have no desire
whatsoever to spend eternity wandering through Mandos’s realm. Yet.."
he continued, and his gaze shifted to the Peredhel, "I will not leave
at once. There may be much at stake, but I truly believe that life in
fair Valinor would not be anymore bearable than in the Halls of
Waiting if I do not manage to bring along enough good memories to
cling to once there."

Legolas looked as if he was on the verge of letting an arrow loose
"Which is why I wish to return to my homeland and meet with my kinsmen
and people before departing forever. I want to re-discover who I am,
my origins, and if that cannot be achieved mentally, at least I want
to do it physically."

The young prince looked determined, but strikingly calm. A flash of
resignation, or fear perhaps, twinkled in his eyes before he concluded
his extensive monologue, neither Elrond nor Thranduil daring to
interrupt him at that point.

"For some unknown reason, the Valar stole my memories and are keeping
them out of my reach. So once again, I will lay my destiny into their
hands, for them to decide what to do with it. If you agree, father, we
shall leave for Mirkwood soon, where I intend to spend one full moon
cycle, before heading for the Grey Havens. In the meantime, if the
Valar give me my memories back, I’ll be ready to face and accept all
the consequences this may entail. And so will you be, Father, for I
trust that you have understood my motivations..."

One may wonder how long the dreadful silence, which suddenly filled
the room, might have lasted if a sudden bustling coming from the patio
had not stopped it from dragging on almost painfully. Before Elrond
had the time to stand up and check for himself what was causing so
much commotion in his ever peaceful city, three short knocks on the
door were heard and without waiting for the permission to enter,
Erestor -who was one of the few privileged Elves in Imladris who could
take some liberties with protocol - burst into the room, his usual
decorum temporarily lost.

"My Lord" he addressed Elrond, a bright smile gracing his generally
stern-looking face, "Your sons have returned!"


TBC...