Early morning light beamed through the long windows at the end of the healing wing, and Taú turned his head towards it as he blinked away the last vestiges of sleep.

His hand reached up to his head, realising the bandage was no longer there. He sat up carefully, feeling a twinge in his shoulder and side, but nothing to make him lie back down, and so he did not, opting instead to slowly swing his legs over the side of the bed and wait for the residual dizziness to pass.

It did and he smiled. The gardens called to his Silvan soul with an insistence he could no longer ignore and so he rose slowly, testing his body tentatively. It worked for the most part, and he reckoned that if he was careful and did not try to conceal his limp and the stiffness of his shoulder, he would at least be functional.

His first problem however, was how to dress himself with a stab wound to the shoulder. He sighed as he thought about the mechanics of it, but the solution presented itself in the form of Benár.

Legolas peered at his second, waiting for him to fully enter the room and sit on the chair beside the bed.

The silence rolled on, until quite unexpectedly, Legolas burst into peals of laughter, before his face contorted in pain and he took both hands to his head. Unsurprisingly, Benár did likewise, but he did not have a concussion – he had a hangover.

Once both had settled, and only the occasional chuckle broke the silence, Legolas spoke.

"New friends? Or did you raid the Noldor's stock of wine?

"New friends," smiled Benár smugly, his voice now much softer. "We were regaled with shampoos and creams and oils of the finest quality; invited into the hot springs below the mountains; taught the less learned odes and songs of the Noldor and then," he stopped for more dramatic effect, "we were honoured with their finest wines, of a smoothness and richness I have seldom imbibed," he said poetically, "it coats the gullet and descends into the stomach as would a ribbon of the finest silk..." he finished, his arm raised to the heavens, and Legolas chuckled once more at his friend's antics.

"You sound like a Noldo!" said Legolas in mock disgust. "I am glad of it, though. I had thought I would return to my father's realm having made an enemy of this entire realm. I am sure he would not be pleased with that," he said with a snort at the enormity of his own understatement.

"No, if he should ever find out," snorted Benár. "So how goes it this morning, Taú?"

"I wish to take an experimental stroll in the gardens below, but damn it all I cannot get my breeches on with this shoulder wound," he said curtly.

Benár snorted again, before rising and retrieving the captain's clothing, which had been cleaned and pressed to perfection. Even his boots and weapons had been polished.

After some struggling and grunting, Taú was dressed. But his hand moved to his unbound, dirty hair and sighed.

"I must do something about this," he moaned and Benár smiled.

"Let me help you, then. By the time we have finished with you, you will be smelling of jasmine and roses..." he said cheekily, as he guided the captain from the healing wing under the surprised but benevolent gaze of the healer who had tended him.

WOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW

A deep sigh turned Benár's head towards his captain. "Are you tired?" he asked in concern, hazel eyes locking onto his friend.

"Come, let us sit under this willow. Tired? Nay – weary – yes, I will admit to that much."

"What is it?" asked Benár.

"'Tis this deceit I am forced to act out, Benár. I understand the need to travel anonymously whilst in the wilds, but here? What was my father thinking?" he finished, an expression of perplexity on his still faintly bruised face.

"I admit I do not know, Taú. Surely our king does not hold Elrond in such low esteem he would think him capable of doing you some harm... it seems, misplaced. I mean aye, the Peredhel is stern and distinctly – Noldorin – but he does not act as an enemy would."

Legolas listened as he twiddled a blade of grass in his hand. "Perhaps, perhaps he does not want the Noldo to see how much importance he places on..." he paused as he flapped his other hand in the air, "on whatever it is he has written in that missive."

"Which brings us to the next point. You have no idea of its contents? Truly?"

"If by that you mean did he tell me what it contains – nay, he did not, yet I would venture a guess."

Benár, Halú and Dorán were now watching him intently as the captain visibly worked through his own reasoning, even as he spoke.

"I believe he may be asking for help – not in so many words – he would not. Yet I think he is preparing the way for closer diplomatic ties. Our warriors are hard pressed as it is. We are out in the field for three times longer than the warriors here or, indeed, in Lorien. Warfare is taking over our lives, Benár and however much he hides it under that cold façade, it gnaws at his heart."

There was silence as the three warriors hung their heads, unbidden thoughts of friends lost jumping to the fore.

"But why, why this secrecy, Taú? From what little I know, I would wager that if Elrond were to find out who you are now, he would be angry, and I would only half blame him," said Halú.

Another deep breath escaped Taú as he thought on Halú's words.

"Yes, that is true. My king is over-protective, this you know, albeit he strives to hide it by justifying certain – protocols. He is right in one thing, my ignorance of that letter's contents may help in the event of – capture. It is why he will not allow me to present myself before a fellow ruler that perplexes me."

"Well, his mistrust of any elf further to the South of Mirkwood, and to the West, is well-known," began Benár. "It is a wonder he has sent this letter in the first place. Perhaps it is simply the beginning, a test if you will, for if you are right and this is an invitation to talk, perhaps he waits to see how they will react."

Taú now regarded Benár openly, until a faint smile came upon his face and he nodded. "You are perceptive, my friend. You may be right, you may just have summed up my father's thoughts – it makes sense."

"Well, thank the Valar, Haldir had the sense to keep his mouth shut!" said Halú with a snort.

Benár simply nodded and then turned to see who was approaching. Three ladies glided across the ground, and in the middle, the Evenstar, Elrond's beloved daughter.

The three Silvans stood and smoothed down their clothes, Dorán combing through his chestnut locks and puffing out his chest a little.

Taú stepped forward and bowed. "It is a pleasure to see you well, my Lady," he said smoothly and Arwen smiled tentatively.

"'Tis all thanks to you, my brave captain. You saved my life and I will be forever indebted to you." She had said it so quietly, her words so heartfelt, that Legolas almost visibly shivered. There had been something behind her voice, something that brushed his soul, and he swallowed nervously before bowing once more.

"That was my utmost pleasure, my Lady," he said solemnly, before looking at her squarely in the eyes and allowing a smile to grace his handsome face. She was a dazzling beauty and he wondered if she would be amenable to a stroll. She too, wore a genuine smile and he fancied she would...

His thoughts were interrupted by the untimely arrival of Elrond's sons.

"Sister," hailed Elladan as the siblings greeted each other and the lady's maidens giggled.

"You are expected for lunch, brothers, do not forget," she warned and, with one last lingering gaze Legolas was not sure how to interpret, she glided away with her companions in tow.

Benár, Halú and Dorán watched as they left, evil grins plastered all over their faces. Elladan cleared his throat, but Elrohir simply glowered at them, his hostility open, and it riled the Silvan captain, who rather thought Elrond's second-born should be apologising instead of antagonising.

"Lord Elrohir," he said.

Elrohir's head snapped to face Taú.

"Your warriors are impertinent," he said quietly.

"You see impertinence where there is but harmless fun."

"Fun?" sneered Elrohir. "She is Undomiel, daughter to Lord Elrond – my sister. She is not approachable and much less by you," he smiled in disgust.

"Elrohir," warned Elladan, his hand coming to rest on his brother's arm. It was swiped away though and the Silvans tensed.

"Halú, Dorán, Benár. Leave us," ordered Taú. From the corner of his eye he could see their hesitation, but he could also see his tone of voice had left no room for protest, and so they nodded and left with one lingering stare at the Noldorin brothers.

"Elladan," said Elrohir. "Go."

"Brother..."

"Go!" he shouted, and Legolas visibly flinched at the violence only barely held at bay by the younger twin.

Elladan's final glance at Legolas, however, was not hostile at all, but almost apologetic, and so the captain simply nodded his understanding before turning to face the simmering Noldo face to face.

"So here we are, Lord Elrohir. Once more you are angry when only humility should rule your actions now."

"Humility? And why would that be – Wood-elf..."

"You erred in battle. You endangered yourself and your warriors – my warriors, your own sister's life."

"You dare to judge my actions? Wherefore this arrogance?" he spat.

"You know I am right, however much you hide it with your insults. You know this much is true."

Elrohir's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Legolas tensed, the pull of muscles sending twinges of pain through his injured shoulder and leg.

"I know nothing!" he raged, striding forward until his face was but inches from Tau's.

"Oh but you do. Your anger and your rage are the fruit of fear! Of grief!"

"What?" asked Elrohir numbly, shocked at the Silvan's words.

"You think no one understands you, that you alone have lost."

"Shut your mouth, Silvan. You know nothing! Nothing!"

Anger invaded Legolas then, because this Noldo had forced those images back into his mind's eye. The ones he had worked so hard to bury, and his fists tensed at his sides and his own green eyes trembled with ire.

"Your mother suffered at the hands of orcs..." he began. It was a perilous road, but he would take it nonetheless.

"Stop!"

"Her wounds so grave she had no choice but to leave for the West..."

"Stop it!" raged the incensed Noldo.

"What did you see? What did you feel for this wrath to take your soul and twist it so that you have nothing to offer but ire?"

Elrohir's hand lashed out and the sound of skin hitting skin resounded harshly around them.

Legolas righted himself slowly, his hair tousled around him and his lip split, but his eyes never left the sparkling grey irises of Elrohir, who now stood frozen before him.

"I do understand," began Legolas. "My mother died at the hands of the enemy. I hid in a tree and watched as she fought for the time our warriors needed to rescue me. She fought until she faltered," his voiced wavered but he controlled it before continuing.

"She was killed slowly, wounded so cruelly, for they hurt her in ways they knew would not immediately end her life. I sat and I watched and I could not understand that the warrior upon the ground was my mother. I remember thinking that she could not die and yet I knew that she would. She screamed with every wound she took and I could not understand..."

"What – what was it you could not understand...?" asked Elrohir so quietly Legolas almost did not hear it. He knew this was the pivotal question, the reason behind the Noldor's simmering, uncontrolled wrath.

"How it is, that such cruelty may exist? for to see it unleashed upon that which you hold most dear is the most severe expression of it – it is the definition of evil."

The two elves stood trembling before one another, unaware of the audience they had gained. Elrond stood rigid, his eyes filled to the brim with moisture, and Glorfindel at his side, one hand upon his lord's shoulder in support.

Elrond turned to look at his general and friend, and was shocked for a moment, to find a faint smile upon the blond warrior's face.

"At last, my friend. Your son, at last..." he whispered, and Elrond thought he understood.