There was a strangeness in the air, for those that dwelled within the Fortress of Greenwood the Great, had never seen the likes. There was a carpet of tents pitched around the outer fortifications, and atop each one, a flag wavered proudly in the afternoon breeze, flags that told stories of great houses and beloved lands.

Every village was represented, every noble house of old, both Silvan and Avarin, and Thranduil found himself wondering if there were any left behind in the forest.

Tilting his crowned head to the waning sun, he closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the new smells that lingered upon the air, smells he had not enjoyed in many years - the years he had spent hibernating inside his self-constructed shell of misery.

Pine and resin, nuts and wet soil. Fragrant herbs and dried leaves smoking over incandescent coals - the smells of the forest, of the Silvan people. It was the aroma that lingered every time she passed him, the same one that came to him in his dreams.

He had failed them, he reckoned, for in his absence he had ignored their needs, waved off their indignant comments, their complaints for what they considered unfair treatment. He had let it all roll with the tide until the wave had become so tall it threatened to engulf them all.

Yet now, he could make it right. If he played his hand with skill, deployed his assets in the best possible way, he could, perhaps, undo the damage, restore this kingdom, restore the forest, resuscitate his own heart...

His wandering eyes were drawn to a small group of elves that walked through the gates far below him. Lord Aradan and his own son, Handir, accompanied by four guards made their way towards the largest tent where Thranduil knew Erthoron and Lorthil would be, waiting for word from the King. They looked so small, he mused, so insignificant and yet their mission was of the utmost importance; gain for them all, the time they would need to gather the council, and then convince them that the Silvans' demand for the return of their Warlord, was viable, would be advantageous, and that Legolas was the elf to fulfil that role; that, if the Inner Circle gave their blessings - something he still had no word on.

Handir was a source of constant pride. He had always been the most steadfast, the most intelligent, at least where his own family was concerned. He knew though, that he had taken his middle son for granted many times, assumed that he would do his duty, that he would endure the grief Thranduil had not been able to shake himself of, indeed he had not shown his love, his admiration, his pride... not since Handir had been a bright-eyed child, still blissfully unaware of the farce that was his parents' marriage.

But then neither had he done it for Rinion, his eldest. He had been old enough to understand, and hence to suffer and yet the consequences had been different, for where Handir was analytical, logical, understanding and practical, Rinion was incandescent, rash, emotional and somewhat - obsessive. Rinion had been close with his mother, and closer still with his sister, Maeneth.

His daughter's lovely face came to him then and he smiled for in his mind she was still a child, not yet come of age. Her cheeks round and full, features not yet fully formed. What would she look like now, he wondered, would she look like her mother? Like Aglareb?

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"The king's envoys," said Narosen, the Spirit Herder as he peered around the flap of their spacious tent.

"Who?" came Lord Erthoron's voice.

"Prince Handir, Lord Aradan..."

"Strange they do not send Legolas to us, assuming as they will that his aunt is here," said Golloron.

"This is a highly - political - moment, Golloron," said Erthoron. "Every deed, every word, every emphasis, every stare or wave of a hand means something. That Legolas is not here means either that he is otherwise engaged, or the king does not wish to give us false hope."

"We are about to find out," said Narosen, as he pulled the flap open and bowed before the two dignitaries, ushering them inside with his arms.

"Lord Erthoron, Lord Lorthil," nodded Prince Handir.

"My Prince, Lord Aradan," bowed the lords and the two spirit herders.

"Lord Erthoron," began Prince Handir after a subtle nod from Aradan. "My father sends his apologies for not receiving you personally. He is currently engaged in the very Council meeting that will decide the outcome of your petitions. He requests you concede a further twenty-four hours before giving you our decision on this matter."

"Why has this been left so late, knowing that we would arrive on this date?"

"Lord Erthoron," continued Handir, moving now from where he had been standing, just as Erestor had shown him. "The Council has only now been called, because Lord Legolas' position in this realm had not yet been decided. In order to consider your request, it was necessary to count on the backing of our military."

"And you have that now? They are favourable to the return of our Warlord?"

"We do not yet know, my Lord. You see, Lord Legolas has been with the Inner Circle for the last three days. We still await their judgement of his - suitability, if you will."

"And yet you are in Council, without that information?" asked Erthoron.

"The Council will convene shortly. We hope that our Commander General will inform us within the next few hours."

Erthoron breathed deeply, clearly not happy with the delay.

"I thought we had made our position plain, my Prince?" he asked.

"You did, my Lord, and we give it the utmost importance."

"All of you?" asked Erthoron rhetorically.

"No, not all of us, for you know who would speak against it. Yet with the favour of our army, it will be nigh on impossible for the Council to rule against it. We simply need one more day, my Lord..."

"And you have it," conceded Erthoron quietly. "No more, no less..." he said meaningfully.

"We are grateful, my Lord. I will send word no sooner a decision has been reached," he said.

Erthoron nodded. "Come," he said, pouring wine into three cups. "Sit with me for a while, for we have many questions," he said, smiling for the first time.

Handir smiled as he sat, Aradan at his side. Erthoron's eyes would not leave those of the prince, indeed Handir was becoming uncomfortable, for the lady in the corner stared too, as if mesmerised, and the two strange Silvans that stood towards the back were quite simply unnerving. Spirit Herders, Silvan mystics that always appeared when questions of state were at hand.

"You look like your brother," said Erthoron critically as he drank.

"Like Legolas, you mean?" asked Handir.

"Yes. And yet not so. He is more, robust than you, and his eyes are green, so different from yours - from those of your father. His hair is similar though, if a little lighter..."

"Now there, I must disagree, Erthoron. Legolas' hair cannot be compared with any other..."

"And why not? Granted it is long, but not that much more than your own..."

Handir remembered then, that Legolas had changed since the last time these people had seen him...

"Perhaps it is the way he wears it," said Handir lightly, desperate now to change the subject.

"So tell me, Handir. How has Legolas fared with you, with his father and your siblings?"

Handir was about to answer, but the woman in shadows chose that moment to step forward. There was something of Legolas in her features, and he correctly deduced that this would be Amareth, Lassiel's sister.

"Forgive me," said Erthoron, "This is Amareth, Legolas' aunt, sister of his mother, Lassiel.

"Well met, my Lady," said Handir as he stood and bowed. Aradan simply nodded at her, for they had met before.

"Will you tell us, then? Tell us how Legolas fares with his father's family?" she asked quietly, but Handir did not miss the worry in her voice.

"Well, he and I are - at peace. We respect one another and I believe, with time, we will become the brothers we should always have been," he said, watching Erthoron especially for a reaction. "When this is over and we are at peace once more, we will be fine allies for we share a common purpose, the same loyalties.

Indeed Erthoron's eyebrows rose and a pleased smile showed on his unguarded face.

"That pleases me, Handir, truly."

"And what of Thranduil?" asked Amareth, her tone somewhat anxious.

"The king is much changed, my lady, since Legolas' appearance. He has been a catalyst of sorts, I would say for our king has left his grief aside, I think; he seems strangely comforted by the presence of this lost son."

Amareth's eyes were wide and alive as she listened. "That is good then, that he has the protection of the king...." she said, almost to herself and Handir frowned, and then turned to Aradan, a silent question in his eyes, but Aradan simply shrugged.

"Why would he need the king's protection, my Lady?"

Amareth looked up sharply, before shaking her head. "A mother's worry..." she said simply, but neither of the Sindar were convinced that that was truly the root of her unrest, and so, the information was stored, for this woman seemed to know much much more than she would have them believe.

"Have there been any, other developments?" asked Golloron, a strange looking elf by any standards, mused Handir. His chestnut locks were almost red and his eyes too, shared that same, somewhat other-worldly appearance. His hair was braided in so many different ways Handir knew it would take him days to understand the messages hidden within. Coloured beads hung from their tips and there was even a feather sitting at the top of a thicker plait that ran down his back. He knew he was staring, but he also knew this, Golloron, would be more than accustomed to it.

"Other developments, well..." began Handir ruefully. "Could you be more specific, Golloron?"

"We believe," said the Spirit Herder, "that he is a listener - of sorts," he added finally with a slight tilt of the head, and Handir remembered...

'Watch the semiotics, Handir, watch the smallest of movements because that is what will give you the biggest insight...'

The Spirit Herder was hiding something, something these Silvans shared.

"Yes - it seems that is, indeed the case," he said, but offered no more verbal information. Legolas had met these elves if his memory did not fail him, but that would have been before his trip to Imladris, before Yavanna's mandate had come to be known.

"We were greatly saddened - about Lainion," said Lorthil with a heavy breath. "He was a fine elf, a brave warrior."

Handir could not speak for a moment, for Lainion's death still weighed heavily on his heart.

"As were we all..." he said softly. "His loss is irreplaceable," he murmured. "Legolas wears Avarin braids in his hair - in remembrance," he said with a soft smile.

"You are a good prince, Handir," said Amareth with a soft smile, some of her anxiety softened as she spoke. "I know he does not need it but - perhaps you would - look over him? On the battle field he is unbeatable, but in the fortress, amidst all that political turmoil, the manoeuvring, the intrigues - he will be powerless against that..."

And there it was again. This woman was frightened.

"Well, my Lady, my Lords, we must be getting back. There is much to achieve in but twenty-four hours. My father has asked me to relay to you his good will, and heart-felt greetings to the city."

"Let us hope then, Prince Handir, that we all have reason to celebrate, once this is over."

"That is our own, fervent desire, Lord Erthoron. I will bring news, no sooner I have it," he promised, and then with a bow, Handir and Aradan left, their guards in tow.

It was not until they were passing the gates that Aradan turned to Handir and smiled.

"You did well," he said, "you did very well."

TSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTSTS

"They are willing to wait, my King, but we have no doubts they will not wait for any longer than that. They have come by the hundreds - they expect some monumental change - there is something in the air that cannot be ignored..."

Thranduil listened quietly and surprisingly, so did Rinion.

"I wonder if we can convince the council then, to do this - that by doing so we are not creating a threat to ourselves, to the Sindarin way of life..." said Mithrandir.

"I believe we can, so long as Bandorion and his people can be effectively quieted, said the king softly."

"My Lord," began Aradan again, stepping forward now, "there is something Prince Handir and I have been discussing - an intuition if you will - "

"Oh?" asked Thranduil. "What is it?" he asked, and Mithrandir's eyes sharpened as he stepped forward to listen.

"Amareth, Legolas' aunt," he began. "She seemed overly worried - for Legolas' safety - "

"And in that she is not wrong, Aradan," said Thranduil. "Did we not assign Dorhinen to him?"

"Yes, but this is different - we know what is going on here in court, she - can only guess at it and yet she is so sure... how can she know of the Sindarin Purists, about Bandorion and Barathon, Draugole and Brethil, about their machinations and their manipulation of our people?"

"Yes, I see what you mean," said Thranduil, and Mithrandir's eyes narrowed as Rinion frowned and looked to one side.

Yet there was no more time to ponder it, for a guard approached the king and bowed before speaking.

"My King, the Inner Council is requesting an urgent audience."

Thranduil straightened, and before long, Mithrandir and Rinion were beside him, with The Company striding boldly into the Throne Room, Glorfindel with them.

"Show them in," said Thranduil in a strong voice as he walked forward to hear what they would say.

"Commander General Gelegon, General Huron, Captain's Forhen, Dunorel, Thoron, Lanthir, Turion and Eramir, my King," declared the herald, before stepping aside.

The eight commanders strode powerfully into the Throne Room, their eyes trained upon the king before them, aware of everyone's eyes upon them.

"Commander General, what news from the Inner Circle," asked Thranduil imperiously.

"My King, we have been gathered for the last three days, three days in which we have put the warrior Legolas to the test. I will tell you, my King, lest rumour reach you, that given the time restrictions and the extraordinary claims that have been made, together with the demands made by the Silvan people, that this test was not our standard trial. It was a test of strength, physical and mental, of skill both of the body and the mind, a test of his moral and ethical beliefs, of his loyalties. It has not been easy, my King, and we beg your understanding..."

Thranduil stared back impassively, for he would have a very good idea as to why Celegon was apologising, for that was precisely what he was doing.

"I understand, Commander General Celegon. I trust this army implicitly."

"Thank you my King. A vote has been taken and was unanimous - Warrior Legolas is to be promoted forthwith, to the rank of First Lieutenant, and subjected to a trial period of five years, after which the Inner Circle will convene once more to discuss his future.

We have also agreed to favour the request that Lieutenant Legolas be invested as the Warlord of the Silvan people, subject to negotiation of the finer points of that office. We are confident of his loyalties and will defend that his service in this capacity will be a benefit to Greenwood the Great, and not just the Silvan people. If a higher rank corresponds to their Warlord, that will have no effect on his status as Lieutenant in this Army and will be regarded as purely, ceremonial."

He paused here and finally allowed his eyes to stray.

The king's eyes sparkled and Glorfindel smiled calmly.

"Your decision pleases me, Commander General. That this army declares itself in favour of the requests of the Silvan people is good news indeed. Yet we must still convince the council, of course," he said as he turned first to Mithrandir and then to Aradan, Handir and Rinion.

"May I add, my King," said Celegon with a step forward, that during these last three days, this army has learned from the errors it has made and some - difficult decisions have been taken."

"What decisions?" asked Rinion, joining the talk for the first time.

"Barathon Bandorion and Brethil Draugolion have been stripped of their ranks, and in the case of Brethil, he has also been stripped of his Master Swordsman status."

There was stunned silence for a moment, before Rinion smirked, and then uttered a single word.

"Good."

Celegon's right eyebrow rose in surprise, and Thranduil nodded his understanding. "This will make the Council more difficult than it already will be. Celegon, you must be prepared - they may be some major - dissent - after this council. I will need your men of full alert."

"I understand, my King, and we are prepared, and, if I may," continued Celegon, his voice powerful so that it reached the last guard standing at the doors. "Whatever the ruling of the Council, my King, this army is behind Lieutenant Legolas. We will not fail him, just as we know he will not fail us. Politics no longer holds sway in the institution I am responsible for. Whatever is decided, we - have already decided."

Thranduil's eyes bored into Celegon's, reading between the lines. Legolas had won them over, just as Mithrandir had said he would.

"Thank you, Commander General. We have two hours to prepare, before this Hall is full and we must state our case. I am dismissing this session until the Council at the eighteenth hour," said the king, turning to leave, but Celegon had not finished.

"My king, I wonder, if I could have a private word."

Thranduil turned to meet his eyes, seeing the importance of whatever it was he needed to say, and so he signalled for the Commander to follow him, and soon enough, they sat together in the king's office, with Handir and Rinion at his side.

"My Lord, what I have to say now is based only on intuition and unfounded suspicion, but I thought it important enough to speak to you of it for it has been nagging me for the last day.

"Speak plainly, Celegon," said the king, leaning forward until his elbows rested on the table before him.

"When I communicated our decision to Barathon, he made comments that suggest - that the queen - was loved by someone at this court - I mean - well loved, my King..."

Thranduil stared back at Celegon, understanding exactly what he had said.

"He suggested, that due to this circumstance, that he himself and those around him, were so - adverse to the Silvan being promoted or backed in any way by this army. In a word, my King, they hate him and it seems to have something to do with this - admirer- the queen had. Does that make any sense, my King?" asked Celegon, watching the king closely.

"Not yet, Celegon, not yet. But the information is valuable, no doubt. You did well to come to me with this."

"I understand this may not be important, but the origin of this Sindarin dominance, this - hatred almost, of the Silvan people, and then the utter rejection of a small part of this army against Legolas - it seems to be related, Thranduil, although I cannot be sure..."

There was silence in the office for long moments, for the implications of what Celegon said were deep and serious.

"I will let you think on that then. For my part, should any further information make itself known, I will, of course, report back to you."

"Thank you, Celegon. You are important to me, to this kingdom - you have my thanks," said the king, but his mind seemed to be elsewhere, and Celegon could not blame him for that, not after what he had just told him.

He turned to leave but stopped himself and turned once more.

"My King. I wanted to - congratulate you," he said, almost as if he had surprised himself with his own choice of words. "Your son is strong, brave, skilled and keen of mind. He is noble and loyal and the Inner Circle is in agreement - he is the most outstanding warrior and future commander we have ever seen, in any of our long lives..."

Thranduil looked overjoyed but Rinion's face reflected surprise, where Handir's was blank, as if he already knew that.

"He has a major role to play in the defence of this Realm, my lord, one this army will help him with for you see, in spite of his age and inexperience - he has earned our loyalty. Somehow, he has awoken in us a new light, a new beginning..." he trailed off, smiled somewhat insecurely and then bowed, and left, leaving the three royals standing in absolute silence.

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He had only once been tireder than he was now and that had been after their ill-fated arrival in Imladris.

But today it was a different kind of tiredness, for it was not only physical. He had used all his resources in these past few days, had applied himself to his full capacity in every way so that he could secure for himself, for his mission, the future he needed in order to carry it out. It had been the single most important thing he had done in his admittedly short life.

Yet all he wanted to do now, was to find The Company, sit with them under the cool evening breeze, away from all those eyes that constantly looked to him, at him, and share a glass of cold sweet wine. The thought seemed absurd for it was not yet the evening meal - how could he just appear there, after everything that had happened, with all the questions everyone would have?

He needed to speak to his father urgently, for there was the question of his status as a Protege that had gone undresses with Celegon; he needed advice, for he found he had no idea what the political implications would be yet neither did he have the slightest interest in lying or withholding information.

Nodding his head to himself, Legolas decided to find his father and so, retrieving his hooded cloak, he donned it and left for the fortress, with only Koron en' Naur at his shoulder.

Soon enough, miraculously almost, they had arrived unchallenged, and both elves entered Legolas' suite of rooms.

"I need a bath, Koron, and food and water and..."

"Stop!," smiled Koron. I will see to the water and food," he said and then hailed a guard from the hallway, but when he returned, Legolas stood transfixed before his bed, his eyes on what had, obviously been carefully laid out upon it - the uniform of an Elven First Lieutenant.

Koron came to stand at his shoulder, peering over it at the leather and light mail, the green velvet and the almost paper thin steel that made up the chest piece. Not quite as magnificent as the uniform of a captain, but fine it was, and Legolas found his breath stolen from him as the true magnitude of what he had done finally hit him.

Koron en' Naur placed a hand on his shoulder. "I have one of these, and it pains me to say I have not cared for it for a long time."

"Why?" came the almost absent question.

"Because I could not find my strength, my purpose..."

"And now?" asked Legolas, turning to meet Koron's eyes.

"Now, when you are safe and this is over, I will polish it, oil it, clean and press it and then I will wear it, with pride, at your side."

Legolas' eyes filled and he smiled. "I am honoured then, to have you with me, on this journey, Koron en' Naur."

The Sinda nodded and allowed himself a weak smile, but there truly was fire behind his grey eyes, a fire that had been lit only the previous day, but that now, would never be doused.

A curt knock on the door revealed a guard. "Urgent news, Lord Legolas. You are being hailed by the king."

Koron en' Naur stepped up beside Legolas and answered the guard.

"Please inform the king that Lord Legolas will be with him in one hour."

The guard frowned slightly, but nodded all the same, turning upon his heel and striding away.

Soon enough, water and food was brought by the household staff that stared in open curiosity at Legolas as they went about their business, and when they left, they did so amongst a flurry of hushed words that rapidly spread like wildfire amidst the summer brush, until everyone within the fortress knew, that Legolas had returned from the Inner Council.

But Legolas heard none of it, for he lay in the steaming water, trying and failing to relax himself. It was useless, for he knew that if his father searched for him, it was because the Inner Circle had made their ruling known to him, indeed the appearance of his new uniform was testimony to that. Even so it had been a surprise and Legolas wondered if his father had prepared it, in anticipation of his promotion.

Noise in the sitting area of his suite beyond the bathing chamber door, spoke of visitors, and then the deep rumbling voice of Ram en' Ondo told him The Company had found him. He smiled, for suddenly his strength returned to him and he opened his eyes. It was time...

Squeezing out his soaking hair and towelling it as dry as he could get it, he pulled on his new black breeches, marvelling at the fine material and perfect cut, for they fit him to perfection, hugged his powerful thighs and calves without impeding his movement.

Next, he reached for the pale green tunic that hung down to his calves, split up the front and sides so as to favour riding and fighting.

Opening the door to his rooms, he stood there for a moment and smiled at the sight that greeted him. Idhrenohtar, Ram en' Ondo, Lindohtar, Rhrawthir, Rafnohtar, Glamohtar, and Koron en' Naur - The Company - his most loyal friends and brothers.

Legolas smiled, his eyes wandering over them all, registering their impeccable uniforms, their shining swords and knives, their perfectly braided hair. Turning finally to Koron en' Naur, the Ball of Fire, Legolas spoke.

"You look mighty fine, brothers," he said with a smile.

"And you look like a warrior returning from Dol Guldur," said Rhrawthir with a scowl.

Legolas giggled before he answered. "From the very pits of Mordor itself, brothers, for the Inner Council are no less fearsome."

Tutting, Rafnohtar pulled him to a chair and opened a cloth bag that sat crossed over his chest. Soon, he was spreading a cold cream onto the bruise that was still visible upon Legolas' cheek, and the other at his temple. "Do I even want to know how this happened?" he asked ironically.

"Nay, you do not, Rafno," answered Legolas as he reached for the food and began to eat heartily.

"Did they starve you too?" asked Lindohtar sarcastically, and then startled as Koron en' Naur simply answered,

"Yes."

A short silence followed, but it did not last for long, as the questions began to flow and Legolas answered them as best he could in between bites of food and long drinks of water. Koron en' Naur answered some of them, when Legolas was too busy eating, until soon, there was silence once more, the eyes of The Company now resting on the mercurial Sinda.

"You have changed," said Idhrenohtar. "You are not the same elf we knew just three days ago - what has happened?" he asked.

Koron smiled. "Indeed I am changed. It is funny, for my life has been so long, so full of experiences both good and bad, but the most important ones, those that irremediably changed my life on an essential level, took but blinks of the eye. Oropher died in one tragic instant and I fell from grace. Legolas appeared and pulled me back up in one, heart-lifting moment.

The Company sat in silence, yet understanding came to them swiftly, and Rafnohtar turned to the Sinda. "What is your name, then, brother?" he said with a smile.

"Koron en' Naur - Ball of Fire, that is my name," he said proudly, with a smile of his own.

Lindohtar's eyebrows rose in interest. "Another song for me to compose then," he smirked. "When all this is over and we are free to serve our land once more, I will delight you with the heroic deeds of the legendary warriors of The Company!" he said theatrically.

"For now though, keep your booted feet on the ground, Lindo. I must present myself before the council in but two hours and before that, there is an important issue I must address with the king. Today - is the first day of my duty to my Lady, brothers, for I must secure this agreement so that the Silvan people claim me as their warlord. It is the perfect opportunity for me to serve the forest, just as she has commanded."

"It will not be easy," said Rafnotar. "Bandorion and Draugole will see to that," he said.

Legolas turned to him, his face blank as he spoke. "And more so, when they find out that their sons," he emphasised, "have been demoted, stripped of their captaincies and their Master grades."

"What?" said Ram en' Ondo in shock.

"They were expelled, for misconduct, for their ranks and privileges were not gained upon the strengths of their own merits - that much became clear during the trial...."

"Lindo - stop!" shouted Rhawthir in anticipation- "We know! Another story to put music to!" he smiled and they all chuckled.

"Then come, brothers. Let us show this council, the Silvans, the King and his advisors, who Legolas is; Hwindohtar, future Silvan Warlord," said Idhrenothar, his eyes moving from one to the other, watching as they nodded their understanding. Legolas had walked into this room a simple elf, but he would leave it as a Lord, a Lieutenant, a Warlord.

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Thranduil stood, magnificent in his kingly attire, before the full-length windows of his official office, with Rinion and Handir sitting further away, talking quietly, their crowns of office upon their shining hair as was expected of them in formal Councils.

Mithrandir, Aradan and Glorfindel also donned their best today, for words of import would be spoken, and the game of rhetoric and veiled intention was as about to start.

Two knocks upon the oak doors heralded a guard.

"Lieutenant Legolas Thranduilion," he called, and the king turned from the window to face the door.

There, stood his son in his new uniform. It fit him perfectly, he mused as his eyes travelled over the glorious warrior that stood before him - his son - he reminded himself.

Yet this was no ordinary lieutenant, for this elf had hair longer and thicker than any maiden, and eyes that spoke a thousand words in every shade of green. His strong body and angular features lent a power to him that could not be denied, and the light he emanated spoke of a strength as yet unseen, a force that attracted, that instilled empathy, that gave reason for pause.

"Legolas," said the king simply.

Bowing, he walked forward, purposefully keeping his eyes trained on his father, for he could not be distracted now from his purpose by questions that would wait.

"My King. I must speak with you, seek your council on a matter of importance, before the Council begins."

"Speak," he invited, nodding at the guard to leave and close the doors.

"During the trials, they asked me if I was a Listener. I told them I was. I was - unsure of the wisdom of telling them I am a protege, and I am left with the worry that the army will consider my - understatement as a wilful lie."

"Why did not not tell them?" asked Handir as he approached his father and brother.

"I was being questioned, in every sense of the word. My physical strength, my loyalty. There was much - antagonism - so much I believed that by adding one more ingredient into the mix, it would tip the balance against me. It was a tactical move I am now unsure was wise."

The king spared a glance at Handir and then at Aradan.

Glorfindel came to stand by Legolas, a strong hand clasping his shoulder briefly, for now was not the time for affections.

"If this information had been withheld from me, I would be angry in hindsight. I believe Celegon at least, should know. He can then decide the wisdom of sharing that with the Inner Circle."

Silence ensued for a while as they considered the question.

"We have secured his loyalty, that of the army in this request, he cannot go against that now," said the king.

"No, he cannot. But I do not think he would respect it," said Aradan. "I believe we should tell him - now - before the council begins. Show him we are giving him the opportunity to retract."

Legolas turned back to the king and nodded. "I agree."

"Very well," said Thranduil. "Guard," he shouted, waiting for the doors to open. "Send for Commander General Celegon with all haste."

"Legolas," smiled Glorfindel, placing a hand over his now armoured heart.

"Glorfindel," said Legolas softly, before clasping his tutor's forearms affectionately, a fondness in his eyes that Thranduil watched with interest.

"Are you alright?" he said quietly, his eyes roving over his slightly bruised face.

"Yes - I am - now. I should have listened to you, Glorfindel. You warned me but I did not understand just what you meant..."

"I know," he smiled fondly. "And perhaps that is just as well, the outcome has been magnificent," he said proudly.

After a moment of silence, Legolas looked to the floor, as if to gather himself, before speaking again, but a whisper to those that watched on in fascination.

"Thank you."

Glorfindel's eyes widened marginally for a moment, before a contented smile bloomed on his ancient face.

"You are very welcome, Lieutenant," he said, his fingers brushing over the carvings on his mithril vambraces.

The moment was broken by the arrival of Commander General Celegon, who bowed low to the king, and then rose with a look of apprehension on his face.

"Commander. I have summoned you here upon the request of Lieutenant Legolas," began the king, and Celegon's face seemed to pale before their eyes, thinking perhaps that the Silvan had formally complained of their treatment of him during the trial.

"Some information was withheld from you, and which must now be revealed, so that you may change for mind before it is too late..."

Turning challengingly to Legolas, he spoke as a commander does to his lieutenant. "What have you kept from me, lieutenant."

But far from cowering before the imposing presence of the Commander General, Legolas spoke calmly and evenly.

"You asked me if I was a listener, and I said yes..." he began, watching for signs that Celegon indeed remembered the moment.

"Yes, continue..."

"That was an understatement, Commander General. At the time, I was being questioned on various fronts; had I elaborated I felt the consequences may have been - detrimental."

"Ah," he said, turning away from Legolas for a moment. "Then whatever it was that you withheld must have been - important indeed, for during all that time I never once saw your courage falter, Legolas."

"It was not a question of courage, Commander General, but of being believed..." he emphasised.

"I am intrigued then, for you are about to tell me something out of the ordinary, if I am not mistaken..." he said, his eyes now fixed on Legolas, bright and excitedly.

"I am not a listener; I am Yavanna's Protege..."

Celegon's eyes became brighter and wider and his breath became audible.

"Celegon," came Glorfindel's confident voice, and Celegon turned his head sharply towards Imladris' Commander General.

"It is true. I was there, Elrond, Mithrandir here too, knows the truth of it."

"Indeed, Commander," said the wizard as he stepped closer to Celegon, who stood as if frozen.

"There can be no question of his claim - but you do see - why he would hesitate to tell you, in the circumstances in which he found himself," said Mithrandir.

"I - I do," came Celegon's shaky voice. "I am - not an unlearned elf - and as such I know that a Protege has a purpose..." he said, turning back to Legolas, who was watching him intensely.

"My duty, is to protect the forests of Arda, and all those who dwell within," said Legolas simply.

Celegon held his eyes before nodding his understanding. "While this is - incredible in itself," he began, "it does not change my opinion, must not change the decision of the Inner Circle, for we tested you in every way we could. You are loyal to this land and to your king and that is all that matters here. I will reveal this to the captains - when the time is right - not before," he added, his voice becoming stronger now.

"I wonder though," he said as he thought, "do you think perhaps the Silvans knew? Their claim, their - request - for the return of the Warlord is surely no coincidence...."

Mithrandir frowned while the rest started a little at the implications of Celegon's words.

"How could they possibly have known?" asked Aradan.

"I do not know," said Celegon. "I simply state the obvious from one that sees this from the outside. Legolas' mission is identical to the one the Silvans ask for - perhaps they did not know the specifics," continued Celegon, "but that they suspected - I do not think we can deny that..." he said, his eyes landing heavily upon those of the king.

"Narosen..." said Legolas, his eyes unfocussed as he remembered his first mission as a warrior in the forest, with Lainion and Turion.

"Narosen, the Spirit Herder?" asked Handir, for he had met him just that very morning.

"Yes," he mumbled. "There was an episode, when I still did not understand what was wrong with me. I touched a sentinel..."

"A sentinel?" asked Glorfiindel.

"A master tree," clarified Legolas. "A father, or mother, one that protects the rest. "I was - perturbed ... " and then his mind wandered back to that moment under the tree...

'Do not be afraid...'

"He told me not to be afraid... that it was a good thing. 'Feel it,' he said, 'let it in... for Kementari has blessed you.'

"He knew!" exclaimed Legolas. "Only now do I realise but somehow, he knew... Mithrandir," he said pleadingly almost as he turned to the wizard.

"His words were prophetic indeed... I must speak with this ... Narosen," said the Maia, the sparkle of excitement in his ancient, blue eyes.