Buy Posters at AllPosters.com! More... Choose from 100,000 posters! Find your favorite posters in music, movies,fine art, sports, and photography categories. Check out these categories: Movies Fine Art Music [Close] undefined [Close] undefined Chapter 21 – Galadriel’s Test Lórien Haldir and Legolas returned to Caras Galadhon in silence. Both had been pensive after the kiss in the meadow, and the atmosphere awkward. Legolas was partly walking on air after that incredible kiss, partly brooding over what this meant; for him, for Haldir, for the bond they shared. For the patrol, too. And Haldir... well, would he ever really know what went through Haldir’s head? The Marchwarden could be as unreadable as a book written in ancient Dwarvish runes. Both feared an encounter with members of the patrol as they did not feel up to it; but their fears were ungrounded. The celebration was still in swing in a part of the city they did not have to cross, and their friends were probably wrapped up in song, dance, food and drink, and had since long forgotten about them. Then there it was, the moment of truth: they had come to the point where three paths met. Haldir’s talan lay ahead, Legolas’s to the right. Both Elves hesitated, and they looked at each other awkwardly. “I think I will go refresh myself,” Legolas said, indicating the right path. Haldir nodded. “I think I will do the same.” And after a short hesitation: “Will I see you after that?” “Yes...” Haldir looked at him with insecurity in his eyes. Rare, for the Marchwarden. “I will come,” Legolas said. “I promise.” For a moment, Legolas thought Haldir would touch him; but he only gave a quick smile and a nod, and continued his way up. Legolas watched him go, but Haldir was not more readable when seen at the back, and the younger Elf turned away with a small sigh. Legolas bathed quickly and thoughtlessly. Then, to his horror, found himself hesitating by the trunk containing his wardrobe, wondering what to wear. This is definitely new, he thought to himself as he stared undecisively at his clothes. He had never given much thought to what he wore from day to day. Someone else had had to point out to him that his Mirkwood clothes, after five years of intensive wearing, were beginning to wear out. Tuilindi and her seamstresses had made a fine collection of new tunics and leggings for him; they’d even concentrated on the color green, but there was also some ice blue and reddish brown, like a deer’s coat. In the end, he opted for grey leggings and a tunic of a mossy green with silvery embroideries in the shape of fern leaves. Was he nervous? It could be an explanation for his constant bumping into furniture and the lopsided buttoning of his tunic he discovered when looking into the mirror. He was torn between his desire to go to Haldir and his fear of hearing things he did not want to hear. What would Haldir say? Did he regret kissing Legolas? Had he done it on an impulse, one he now regretted? How had he experienced the kiss itself? Had he noticed that Legolas wasn’t particularly experienced at this? Had he liked it nevertheless? Maybe enjoyed it, even? Would he consider doing it again? Probably best to get this over with, Legolas thought as he strode to the door and out of his talan. Putting this off will only make it worse. Funny, how his feet rebelled against his reason; instead of bringing him straight to Haldir’s talan, they turned to another path, one that led down- instead of upwards. He followed it without knowing why, allowing his feet to wander as his mind did. He had given himself away with that kiss, he realized, by responding so eagerly; given himself away both to Haldir and to himself. And everything would change now, and he did not know whether it would be for good or ill. He had been tempted, once or twice, to kiss Celairmir; just to know how it would feel. What it would be like. But he had not allowed himself, for no good could come from such an action, and he did not want to hurt Celairmir; take advantage of the older Elf’s feelings for him. Kissing Haldir was something he’d never seriously considered; the Marchwarden had given no sign whatsoever that he would be appreciative, and Legolas had thought it would be an elfling’s folly to try and find out. But he *had* wondered what it would be like to share such an intimate thing, yes, there was no shame in admitting that. And now he knew. Still, it was almost too surreal to be true. He had not seen it coming, not at all. Perhaps it was the same for Haldir; perhaps it had been the work of the moment for him. Nothing more... I do not seem to be very fortunate in these matters, Legolas thought sadly as he wandered on. Why, of all Elves in Mirkwood and Lórien, did it have to be Haldir he fell in love with? The most reserved of them all? Untouchable, he had called him. The owner of an empty bed... He felt a shiver, but strangely it did not chill him. He remembered something else. Haldir had admitted that Legolas’s words were true, that same evening; he’d said that he had built a wall around him, and that it had made him lonely. But he had not explained why – of course not – and Legolas had been too distracted by his own problems to ask questions. He could kick himself; he’d been so close that evening, so close to discovering the reason behind Haldir’s reserve. And now... “Legolas.” Legolas looked up. His wanderings had brought him to an intimate glade between the trees, covered with mosses and grass and small white flowers. In the middle stood a basin on a platform and beside the basin stood Galadriel. She was the one who’d spoken. Had she been waiting for him? “My Lady,” he said. She beckoned to him. “Come further, Prince of Mirkwood.” He obeyed, stepping onto the grass and hesitatingly approaching the Lady of the Galadhrim. “You have been shown the way to the Mirror,” she said. “The Mirror!” he said. He’d heard of that wondrous thing; it could show visions, but few were allowed to look into it, and never without Galadriel’s supervision, for the Mirror could be dangerous to those who did not know how to handle it. “I was relieved to see your heart grow lighter these weeks, Legolas,” she said, “but I sense a new worry that weighs on it again. And you have many, many questions... Is that not so?” Legolas nodded slowly. “Yes, my Lady.” He studied her calm face. Did she know what had occurred between him and Haldir today? Could she tell that every beat of his heart brought back the memory of Haldir kissing him, so securely and certainly? So... attentively? It had been tender, but it had been anything but companionable. Anything but that indeed. Legolas felt his cheeks flush at the thought. Galadriel’s face betrayed nothing. “Will you look into the Mirror?” she asked, indicating the basin next to her. Legolas did not move. “What will it show me?” “Perhaps it will give you answers to your questions; perhaps it will give you new riddles to ponder. It might show you the past, the present, or the future. It might even show you falsehoods. But to one who knows how to interpret them, every vision will have its worth, some way or another.” Legolas stared at the ordinary-looking basin. Answers to his questions... yes, he desired those very much. Would the Mirror show him why Haldir had become the Elf he was now? Why he had constructed that fence around his heart? What had driven him to set all that aside for a moment and kiss Legolas today? Would it even show him what lay in the future for them? What their fates would be... Then again, did he really want to know? And what if it showed him visions he did not wish to see? Or false ones? Wasn’t it wiser to remain ignorant, without having to live forever with the haunting memory of the things Galadriel’s Mirror had shown him? Be afraid of them? Legolas was silent for a while. Galadriel waited patiently, her eyes resting on Legolas’s face. “I am grateful for the offer, my Lady,” Legolas said eventually. “But I will not look. I will let the future come to me in its own time. The answers to my questions concerning the past and the present I will search on my own, once I have mastered up the courage.” As he spoke, he knew it was the right decision. He had always refused to discuss Haldir’s private life behind his back, and using the Mirror to dig into his past seemed even worse a thing. He respected Haldir too much for that. He would ask Haldir the questions directly, and he would receive every bit of information Haldir was willing to give. He would not force Haldir to reveal more than he felt comfortable with; he owed his friend that much. Galadriel smiled with unexpected warmth when she saw the determination in Legolas’s eyes. He had never been unreadable to her; he was as open and honest as they came, the son of Thranduil, and it was not difficult to read the name that rested so steadily in Legolas’s soul. His every fibre was soaked with it; it had already begun when he first came before her and Celeborn, five years ago. But it had been faint and fragile. It could go either way, she had thought then; it could flicker and die... and it could grow strong and burn brightly, like a new star in the sky. It was not difficult to see which road Legolas had taken, for those willing to see it. And perhaps, finally, the moment had come that her loyal Marchwarden opened his eyes as well. So precious, she thought while looking at the young Elf in front of her. More precious and more rare than all the Dwarven treasures under the mountains. Even more precious than the Ring on her finger. The prophecies were true then, she knew with increasing certainty. The vision the Mirror had shown her long ago had not been false. Galadriel dared to be hopeful, even though it was really premature to say anything with certainty. Many years were yet to come, many roads to be taken, with all their dangers and difficulties. And still... Galadriel couldn’t help thinking that she was not the only Keeper in Lórien. Without being aware of it, Thranduil had made a very important decision when choosing a mentor for his only son; one that would have many consequences. And perhaps one day all of elvenkind would know this, too. “I have not been betrayed by my first impression of you, Legolas,” Galadriel said as she stepped down from the platform. “I understand your reasons for declining my offer and I am not disappointed in the least. You are genuine and true; your heart is pure. Be true to it, and this Earth will praise you as she has done since your first came into it.” Legolas stared at her, taking in her words and trying to digest them. “I have not always felt so praised,” he said. “No, indeed,” she replied. “Patience is one of your greatest gifts, Legolas Thranduilion. It has not been bestowed on you for nothing; you shall need it, as you shall need your determination and your resilience. Use those traits well and wisely.” “Yes, my Lady.” He could not make out the full meaning of Galadriel’s words, but he knew she would not become any more concrete. “Do not worry, my young friend,” she said gently, “you will find the courage you are looking for today.” “I think, my Lady,” he replied, “that I have already found it.” She smiled. “Good. Then go and have your questions answered. Waiting is no longer wise.” He turned to leave, but halted. “Celairmir and the others...” he said. “Will they know...” She smiled again, almost like an amused mother. “No, they do not know you have returned,” she said, “and they will not hear it from me. They were greatly disappointed about your and Haldir’s absence tonight.” Legolas grinned. “Somehow I can not feel for them.” “Rúmil and Orophin were the first to notice,” Galadriel continued. “They were concerned, until they heard that you had ridden out on my bidding, together with Haldir.” Legolas sighed. “They need not be so worried about me, those two,” he said. “They are even more protective of me than Haldir is; and that says something.” He looked at Galadriel. “Do they so on your request, my Lady?” “No,” she said, “and not on Haldir’s, either. They do so out of their own free will.” “Because I am a prince?” Legolas asked. “That... and because you are their hope, Legolas.” Galadriel smiled gently. “Their hope?” Legolas was puzzled. “Hope for what?” Galadriel did not reply immediately. Apparently she was trying to decide whether she was the right person to tell Legolas this. “Their hope,” she said eventually, “for their brother’s happiness.” Legolas stared at her, dumbfounded. “Understand, Legolas,” she said, “there was a time when we feared for Haldir. Rúmil and Orophin were preparing themselves to say goodbye to him. Unnecessary, as it turned out later, thank the Valar – but even after that their minds were never completely set at ease. Recently we have caught flashes of the Haldir we once knew, and Rúmil and Orophin do not want to lose him a second time; they are so protective of you because they do not wish to find out what will happen to Haldir should some ill befall you.” A silence fell. Legolas opened his mouth, shut it again; then, said softly, “I have to go now, my Lady.” She nodded and smiled. “Very well. Can you do me a favor, Legolas?” “Of course, my Lady.” “Would you please tell Haldir that I expect his report of his conversation with Rimsilith to be turned in tomorrow evening?” “Yes, my Lady, I will tell him.” If he didn’t forget, that was; he had so much to discuss with Haldir already. After a last respectful greeting, Legolas took his leave from Galadriel and the glade of the Mirror. This time, as he climbed the stairs, his feet did not stray and he ran all the way up to Haldir’s talan. < previous chapter 22 >