~Legolas is worried and Lasriel tries to help. Her efforts don't produce the expected outcome.(surprise surprise)~

~♕~

"Trouble? No way, you're only
in trouble if you get caught."

– Aladdin

~♕~

17. Quarrel

Tossing and turning in his bed, Legolas tried to forget the horrible sight of dying young trees and catch some sleep before he must find a way to tackle it in the morning. Why was he so unlucky? It was as if someone had put a curse on him and his work here. Everything went pear shaped.

It was just too much to deal with.

If only he could leave everything and disappear. Go far, far away, and never come back.

Sail west.

His eyes were burning with tears and he angrily rubbed them. The dying plants were not all he was failing, his marriage was coming apart too.

He should not have parted with his wife in anger, he should have tried to talk to her and soothe things over. His book about marriages stressed the importance of not going to bed as enemies.

He should have gone to her bed and done his duty, but instead he had fled.

But why was she always lying to him? He couldn't understand it. Like now, when he came home from a long, weary and disastrous journey only to find an empty home. He had been afraid, thinking something had happened, even going down to the river to see if she had fallen into it.

At last the guards at the gate had eased his worry. She had gone to Osgiliath with Galion, they told him.

That had both surprised and annoyed him. Galion was an old, pretty useless drunkard and the marketplace was full of strangers. Men and male dwarves. He didn't trust them not to take advantage of an elleth like her who had lived a secluded life. There would be looks, and perhaps worse. But she hadn't even brought a guard with her.

And then when she finally returned she lied about where she had been. She always lied to him and he hated it.

Turning over in his bed again, he put the pillow over his head. Worst was when she lied in bed. Hiding that it hurt. Hiding the discomfort that had replaced the pain after the first times.

No... Actually, the worst was that he kept bedding her despite knowing how little she liked it. That he selfishly took pleasure from her body. That even now, thinking of it, he felt himself becoming hard.

He was pathetic.

Screw this. He had to leave. He had stayed for his father's sake – and for Aragorn's and Faramir's – but no matter what he did everything went wrong. Middle-earth would be better off without him.

If only he hadn't made so many promises... Promising Faramir and Aragorn a forest. Promising Thranduil an heir. Promising Lasriel to be her husband.

Because now there was no escape. He was stuck here.

~♕~

Another silent morning followed where her husband looked like his thoughts were leagues away as he prepared for the day. Perhaps they were. In Aman, with his mother.

"How was the journey?" Lasriel asked politely, in an endeavor to bring him back from wherever he had gone. "Are the saplings doing well?"

He had been remaking his braids in front of the mirror and his fingers stilled briefly before he replied. "Great." He met her gaze in the mirror with a strangely challenging look in his eyes. "It went splendidly."

If that was true, then why had he looked so dejected before? "Oh. That's... good. So no more journeys for a while then?"

His forehead furrowed. "No, there will be; I need to check on them again soon. But don't you worry about that."

He finished the braid and hurried out.

She looked after him. He was walking straight to his foreman and a few other foresters and they began to discuss something in low, agitated voices.

Lasriel moved a little closer, just enough to hear.

"... show it to the Prince of Ithilien. He was a ranger here; perhaps he knows what kind of pest it might be and how to get rid of it?" It was the foreman who had spoken, a Silvan from Greenwood named Taurandir.

Lasriel's ears pricked up. Pests? So there was a problem. Legolas must be lying so she wouldn't worry about it.

"I suppose we must," said Legolas reluctantly. "I just hesitate to burden him with this."

"I don't think we have a choice, my lord."

"Well, then." He sighed and turned to one of the others. "Your horse is fast. Can you bring a message to Prince Faramir and ask him when he has time to come with us?"

Lasriel had heard enough. Returning in, she pulled out the book about forestry she had bought to Legolas and that he had hardly looked in. She recalled there was a chapter about pests. Perhaps Legolas wouldn't need to bother Faramir after all?

With the book under her arm, she went over to where he was still talking to Taurandir.

He gave her a surprised look. "Lasriel?"

Now that she was there, she felt strangely shy with everybody's eyes on her. "Sorry to interrupt. I just wondered what the injured trees looked like? There are ways to..." Her voice trailed off when she saw Legolas' frown.

"I will be back soon," he told the foreman, then took her arm, leading her back to the house. "Were you listening to us?" He said it in an angry whisper.

"I couldn't help overhear–"

"Yes, you could." He shut the door behind them. "You were eavesdropping. Don't lie!"

Shocked at his outburst she pulled away, nervously rubbing her hands. "I just..." But she couldn't explain, not when he was looking at her like that. She hated quarrels. She hated when someone yelled at her even if it was done in angry hisses. "Sorry." Tears broke out and she looked at her feet to hide them.

His voice softened. "I told you not to worry."

"But you are worried."

"If I am, what is the point of us both worrying? Faramir will help me solve this. It will be alright." He took a step closer and put a hesitant hand on her shoulder, squeezing it. "Ai, don't cry."

She tried to obey but somehow his unexpected concern made it worse.

He awkwardly let his hand drop. "I have to return to work."

"Can't I come with you? I can help..." Her voice was very small.

"No, it's too dangerous. And not necessary. Didn't you tell me you are not interested in plants? You said it was your naneth who tended your garden."

"Yes, but... There are books, and–"

"Lasriel." He cupped her face in his palm, stroking away her tears with his thumb in the most tender gesture he had ever shown her. "I appreciate your support, I really do, but please keep out of my work. It's not safe for ellith. And I can manage well on my own; you have your chores and I have mine, remember?" He kissed her damp cheek. "See you at dinner."

Lasriel found no words to reply; her chest was a turmoil of emotions. She was glad he worried for her safety but he didn't understand she could take care of herself. Why was he so opposed to her interference?

On his way out, Legolas had to evade Nellas who had been standing just outside. He only nodded curtly to her before leaving.

Nellas entered the house, again without an invitation, and exchanged the old heather bouquet for a new one. "So, you have a marriage like your naneth and adar's then," she said conversationally. "Always fighting."

"Were you listening?" Lasriel asked, annoyed and embarrassed at the same time. She suddenly understood her husband's anger over her eavesdropping a bit better.

"Aye." Nellas sat at the table. "Are you going to do anything about your bad marriage?"

"It's not bad. And we don't always fight so it is nothing like my naneth's."

"Not bad? So then it is a good marriage?" She peered at her.

"Well..." Lasriel sat down too, suddenly tired of pretending. "Actually, no. It's not."

"Tell me."

Almost to her surprise, Lasriel did, letting all her recent grievances pour out of her in a sullen flood of words.

"Legolas is away all the time," she began. "The little time he's not, he mostly ignores me, at least if there is nothing to complain about. And his stupid list!" She indicated the paper on the wall. "I don't want to be stuck doing stupid chores all the time, I want to help. I know I can. I am much better at shopping than Galion and I could build a much better house than this! And with the help of books I can learn forestry as well. I could follow Legolas on his journeys. But he just won't listen to me!"

"I see." Nellas seemed unruffled by Lasriel's outburst. "And did you tell him all this?"

"I... well. Perhaps not in plain words but he should understand an elleth is not like a human woman. We are strong and can do everything an ellon can. And he should have noticed my work on the house; the new chimney, and when I mended the leaking roof... But he only thinks about himself and doesn't notice anything. And he's so occupied with what his people will think that he can't even bother to listen to advice! Just now I was going to show him there is a chapter about pest control in this book, but he led me back here like I'm a prisoner!"

"Oh!" Nellas regarded the book with interest. "Then ask him again. I saw the beetles too over at the Cross-roads and the poor baby trees are very sad and hurting. They need all the help they can get." Nellas patted Lasriel's arm across the table. "I'm glad you think about the saplings' wellbeing. You are a good person, little one."

Lasriel's attention was caught. Cross-roads? Beetles? Hmm...

She opened the book. "Which beetle was it?" she asked innocently.

Nellas pointed at one of the drawings. "That one. With the funny nose. They are cute but not nice to the pines."

"Good to know." Lasriel hid her pleased smirk, suddenly knowing exactly what she would do. If she managed to cure the trees then even Legolas would have to accept her resourcefulness.

She recalled his soft touch before he left. Deep down she knew he meant well, but he just didn't understand. She would make him see the truth about her.

"Bye then," said Nellas, standing again. "Don't forget to talk to your husband about this."

"I will," Lasriel lied.

When she was alone she hurried to haul out a map over Gondor from among her books. The Cross-roads was located a couple of hours' ride east of Osgiliath and she recalled having passed through it on the journey from Greenwood. If she started directly she could get there and come back again in good time before dinner.

Next she checked the forestry book about how to cure the trees. There were several methods. One was to plant leafed trees to give the beetles an alternative food source, but that would obviously not work here; there weren't enough plants as it were, and if she sowed seeds it would take too long.

Another method was to dip the saplings in beeswax to create a mechanical barrier. That might work, but could she get that much wax? She decided to try the third method first, which was smearing clay on them. There was certainly no lack of that material around here.

While she went to the river to fill a bucket with clay, Lasriel noticed with satisfaction that Legolas and his workers had left for the day. Good. She wanted to surprise him. Next time he went to check on his plants he would find some of them miraculously healthy, and realize who must have cured them. He would be so pleased!

And then they could work together treating the rest of the plantation.

Hurriedly loading her horse with several bags of clay, Lasriel led it to the gate.

The guards gave her a surprised look. "Where are you going?"

"Just out for a ride. My mare needs exercise."

"Then I shall go with you," said one. "Your husband asked me to look after you."

"Did he now." Lasriel fought not to let her indignation show. She really was being treated like a prisoner! "There is no need though. I shall ride along the river and then return. It is completely safe."

The guard hesitated. "You're not going to Osgiliath again, are you?"

Lasriel's blood boiled. How did Legolas know she had been to Osgiliath? He must have had someone spying on her. How humiliating!

"Of course not," she said with forced calmness.

"Well, then. Will you promise not to go too far?"

"Promise." Waving at them she set off at a gallop.

The joirney went swiftly and without obstacles. When she had passed Osgiliath the road became narrower and in bad condition from lack of use, and on either side were huge tree stumps. This had been a scarce forest before the war, but during the march to Minas Tirith the enemy army had felled the trees to build war machines and for firewood – and some seemed to have been felled for no reason at all, for in many places whole trunks remained; decomposing corpses of what had once been millennia old oaks and olive trees.

It was a shame. And moreover, according to the forestry book, rotting wood provided a perfect environment for the beetles to hatch.

Lasriel reached the Cross-roads at noon. That was the only part in the area where there were still adult trees; ancient laurels, tall, wide and with crooked crowns that indicated past injuries. An old stone statue of a king on a throne stood where the four roads met.

Dismounting, Lasriel stroked the mossy laurel trunks. One day the entire Ithilien would have trees like these and she would help Legolas make that happen.

Not far from the wood she found the first part of the ruined plantation. It was a rocky area with brambles, ferns, wild thyme and gorse, and sure enough many of the pine saplings planted evenly across the surface were crawling with beetles. The bugs had gnawed off the bark entirely of several of them.

She found a part with mostly undamaged ones and started working, smearing the thin trunks until the clay covered them completely. When it dried and solidified it would become a hard shell.

The work was easy but time consuming, and now and again she glanced at the sky to make sure there would still be time to return. Her horse was fast and could canter most of the way, but Lasriel would need an additional hour to cook the dinner too.

She could treat a few more, then she would have to go.

She was so engulfed in her work she didn't hear the hoofbeats at first, and when she finally did the approaching company was already within sight, albeit still far away. Crouching among the brambles and gorse, she spotted Legolas, Faramir, and several human men in elegant outfits.

Damn! Was he bringing Faramir here already today?

Without doubt, Legolas would hate it if his companions saw his wife there, working with the trees. She recalled their first conversation when they arrived in the colony, that humans had different customs and that their women were not allowed to have a job.

She must hide until they had left, but where?

The laurels! Breathing out in relief, she ran in under their protecting eaves in a crouch, thankful that they were evergreen and still had dense foliage despite the late season. With their gnarled shape they were easy to climb and soon she was safely hidden among the glossy leaves.

When the company came closer she heard their voices more clearly. Legolas was explaining something to the others, about needing more money to exchange the ruined saplings for new ones, and that with help of Faramir he would make sure the new ones survived.

Faramir cut in that most pests could be treated with a mixture of sulfur, cinnabar and arsenic, an effective, but expensive method.

"We already spent a fortune on this project," complained one of the men, a chubby human in a bright blue coat and fur lined cloak. He looked rich enough to afford spending many fortunes on trees.

"I know, Lord Arasaith," Legolas replied. "But just look at these old laurels here. Are they not beautiful? This land deserves to be restored to its former glory. And with your help it can happen."

"Hm. I had imagined it would take less time."

"But it will be worth the wait," said Faramir. "I trust the wood-elves fully to do Ithilien justice."

"Well, I am starting to have my doubts. But if you say– Look! There's a loose horse over there."

Lasriel's blood ran cold. Oh no! How could she have forgotten about the mare?

Through the leaves, she saw Legolas' forehead furrow at the sight. He knew whose horse it was.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Faramir looked around, and then up, scanning the crowns of the trees with alert eyes. It didn't take long until his gaze landed on Lasriel.

Surprised, he went closer. "Afternoon, madam. What are you doing up there?"

Wishing to be teleported very, very far away, Lasriel awkwardly jumped down. "Just climbing a little."

Clearing his throat, Legolas said: "My wife likes to climb. We do that a lot, us elves." He was blushing furiously, whether from anger or embarrassment Lasriel couldn't say. Probably both.

"Indeed!" She laughed nervously. "I saw these beautiful trees and could not resist. But now I am on my way home to make dinner like a good wife! See you soon, dear!" She waved at Legolas, hurrying away from there as fast as she dared without making it seem like she was fleeing.

All the way home she cursed under her breath, using her full vocabulary of swear words in Westron, dwarf Khuzdul and the ones she had learned more recently in the Haradrim dictionary. Sindarin, unfortunately, lacked bad words entirely.

Why was she always so unlucky? Of course Legolas had to choose this day to bring the lords he wanted to impress to the Cross-roads. Of course he had to bring them there and not to another of the many plantations. And of course they had to notice her horse.

Damn bloody fucking damn!

She did not look forward to dinner.

A/N:

Thanks for all comments on previous chapters! You guys are the best. 😍