~Legolas tries to make Lasriel stay happy but struggles when he gets criticized. Later an unexpected message arrives.~

~♕~

"Look inside yourself and recognize
that change starts with you.
It starts with me.
It starts with all of us."

– Judy Hopps, Zootopia

~♕~

31. Afraid

On the road home, Lasriel continued to chatter about her ideas for the river trading route and sending messages with pigeons, and Legolas did his best to listen attentively. He could tell how happy it made her to talk about it, and it didn't cost him anything to listen, after all.

"We could establish a bird post office in Osgiliath and one in Minas Tirith." She shook her head. "But no, that is too short a distance. A fast messenger gets there in no time. But wait! Some signal, perhaps? Something like the beacons they have between here and Rohan, but on a smaller scale. Lanterns? At least at night... Oh, and in the daytime we could use mirrors."

"I am not sure I understand," said Legolas. "How can you communicate with lanterns and mirrors?"

"Oh, you need to develop a code language. I have read of something similar done in South Harad. They send messages across the wasteland with fires and smoke. Big and small puffs of smoke mean different words, you know? I must remember to ask the Haradrim man if he has any books about that."

"Ah, the curious merchant," Legolas deadpanned, feeling a twinge of lust at the mention. They had been away from home far too long already and he couldn't wait to be back in the bedroom.

Soon. Thank the Valar he was such a patient ellon.

Legolas was in the middle of a pleasant daydream about said bedroom when he noticed Lasriel had stopped talking and rode in thoughtful silence.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

She flinched at his question and looked like she didn't want to answer at first, but then she complied with a sigh. "I was thinking about today. How much I enjoyed going to the market and haggling to get the best deal. I used to always do that back home and I miss it." She gave him a shy glance. "I want to take over that chore from Galion."

"Oh. But you know how the humans in these parts are... you have met their wives. Ladies don't travel to the city alone, or fraternize with rough merchants. And though our financial situation is less strained now, we still cannot afford to lose the lords' good opinion."

"We would save a lot of money though... Even more, if we bought some of the supplies we need directly from the farmers, cutting out the middle hand."

It was tempting to accept, but images of Lasriel chatting with the burly human men in Minas Tirith came before him. He didn't want her to be alone in the city, nor in remote farms for that matter.

"But I guess you are right and it is a bad idea..."

Her unhappy sigh made Legolas feel guilty. "I didn't say that. I just... I just don't know how to make it work..."

She nodded and the thoughtful look returned. But not for long. "I got it!" she exclaimed so suddenly the horse recoiled.

"Aye?"

"Your wealthy lords rarely come to the market, do they? Especially not in Osgiliath. They live in Minas Tirith."

"Aye, but..."

"Well then. Whenever you have a meeting with the lords, I can be your elegant wife who serves them tea and chat with their wives about whose daughter married whom. But at other times I go to the market, and then I will dress simply and pretend I am a servant or something. If, by chance, one of the lords or his wife sees me they would never look at me twice, let alone recognize me!"

"But what if you get attacked by bandits on the road, or one of the merchants becomes too 'friendly'... It is not safe."

"Then I must learn self-defense." She smiled eagerly at him. "You are a warrior. You can teach me!"

He didn't want to dampen her excitement, but what she suggested was out of the question. Practicing self-defense? Pretend to be a servant? Not his wife.

"I will think about it," he said noncommittally.

"Right."

"But look, we are almost home already!" He urged the horse to walk faster so he would not have to see her disappointed face.

Back in the colony, they passed Gimli at one of the new wells where he was cleaning his beard in a bucket. A bit surprisingly it was the well Cheery's team had dug and that he had deemed very inferior to his own.

"Good evening lad and lass! We're having an after work party. You're invited."

Legolas glanced at Lasriel. "We have plans..."

"Then cancel them. My parties are the best."

A dripping head popped up from the other side of the well. "They really are," Cheery chipped in.

Legolas wanted to say no, the plans were too important, but he was fairly certain Gimli would want to know all the juicy details about said plans if he turned the invitation down. He cringed inwardly just at the thought.

"Maybe we can stay for half an hour," he reluctantly agreed. If Lasriel and he left the party early they would still have the better part of the evening left for bed activities.

They took the horses to Galion so he could unpack the goods from the market and store them. Apparently he planned to attend the dwarf party as well, for he had put on an embroidered silk tunic and his ginger braids were unusually neat. He looked happier than usual too, and not as sleep deprived. Even the reek of stale alcohol was gone.

Lasriel had said she suspected Galion had married Nellas, and suddenly Legolas was certain she was right. But why hadn't they told anyone? If Legolas had known, he would have arranged a fine wedding celebration.

When they entered their house, he asked Lasriel what she thought.

"I don't think Galion feels very appreciated here, to be honest," she mused. "The others exclude him, unless they need something from the storage. I have only ever seen him talking to Nellas – and myself, when we play chess."

"Then he should have told me. I do not accept rudeness from my people."

"Um... But you haven't been very nice to him either."

"What?" he huffed. "When have I not been nice?" He had always prided himself in his politeness. He was known to treat everybody well – even befriending a dwarf!

She dropped her gaze uncomfortably. "Never mind. We should get ready for the party."

"Aye, we should." Legolas shook off the slight annoyance and gave her a meaningful look. "It won't do to show up at a get-together with unwashed hair... Let us take a bath first."

That broke the tension. "You sound just like your adar," she said with a grin.

"How dare you? Let me punish your insolence." He caught her around the waist and pulled her to him for a kiss.

The hot bath was relaxing, and Legolas sunk deep into the water, with only eyes and nose poking out so he could breathe and admire the sight of his wife at the opposite side. Seeing her sponge her upper body was appealing.

But after a while his thoughts returned to her words about Galion. You haven't been very nice to him. Why had she said so? For sure, there was no truth in that. Legolas was a good leader of the colony, everyone said so, even Faramir.

Yet... He had to admit he didn't like Galion, and never had; he was a useless drunkard who had stolen wine from his father for as long as he could remember. Legolas didn't appreciate at all that Thranduil sent him along to Ithilien.

Had he failed to hide his disdain?

But if he had, was that so strange? To succeed with his work here he needed able hands, and an ellon like Galion was a liability. Nellas too.

On the other hand, those two appeared to have become his wife's friends now. Did Lasriel think less of him for his treatment of them? She had sounded a tiny bit accusing...

He felt an uncommon need to explain himself. "You know, I never asked for a butler. I needed foresters! If I wasn't always nice to Galion, that is why."

Lasriel looked a bit surprised that he brought the topic up again. "Oh, I understand that. I didn't mean to criticize you..."

"You can criticize me all you want," he retorted, affronted. Did she think he wasn't open to criticism? Of course he was.

"I know." But she sounded very much like she didn't, and only agreed to mollify him.

He sat up a bit too fast so water splashed over the edge of the bath. "You can, Lasriel. I don't want you to hide things from me ever again, you know that!"

She shrunk back. "Aye."

Her reaction made him suddenly understand. She was scared! Of him, her own husband! The realization hit him like a painful bolt straight into his heart.

Thinking back, that must be the reason she had lied to him so many times before. Whenever she had to say something unpleasant, such as when the bedding hurt, or that she planned to build a brick house, she kept silent about it rather than risk his anger!

Even now after all the improvements of their marriage, it seemed she still feared him. Was he really that intimidating? Like some sort of monster. Like an orc.

He tried to draw a calming breath but only became more agitated.

"Why are you afraid of me?"

"What?" She sounded genuinely surprised. "Of course I am not afraid of you."

He peered at her suspiciously. Another lie? But she looked honest.

He felt heat creep up his cheeks. Great. Now he was blushing. How mortifying! But he had been so certain...

"Then why do you act that way?" he accused, trying to hide his discomfort.

She edged closer. "I am not afraid of you. If I... If I gave that impression, then I am sorry. It is just... I really hate quarrels."

"I wasn't quarreling, I was talking. Perhaps a tiny bit too loud, but that's what people do when they discuss things!"

"I know that, I know." She swallowed. "This is my fault. I am overly sensitive. I... I apologize."

"Nay, please." He caught her hand and pressed it. "Don't apologize. If it sounds like quarreling to you, then it does, and you are allowed to feel what you feel."

Her lip began to tremble. "Thank you," she whispered, crawling into his lap so she could lean her head against his neck.

He wrapped his arms around her and felt how the tenseness gradually left her body.

"My parents argued a lot," she said after a long while. "Before... I, uh, lost my adar. They would call each other ugly names and fight over every little thing."

"Thuriniel? Who is so mild and polite?"

Lasriel laughed mirthlessly. "Not with him, she wasn't, and that is what I fear. I am afraid for us to become like them. Bickering over trivialities... Subverting to our worst selves. I think I could agree to almost anything if it meant I would evade a quarrel."

"I don't want you to do that," he said earnestly. "I meant what I said before. If I'm wrong, I need you to tell me so. I can take criticism, though I may not always react entirely... maturely to it. Please don't let that stop you. And I would never resort to name-calling."

"Well, rationally I know you wouldn't. It is just so hard to control my fears. Whenever someone raises their voice, it is like I am that elfling again, trying to shut out the angry voices..."

Legolas' chest contracted. "I am so sorry you had to go through that."

"Thank you. "She hugged him tighter. "I am glad I told you. I will work on my courage and try not to evade arguments."

"And I will try to check my temper."

"Becoming our best selves." She smiled.

They sat like that for a long time, comfortably resting in each other's arms, until the water grew cold. The fire had gone out.

"We should probably get up," Lasriel mumbled reluctantly. "Gimli and Cheery must be waiting."

"Or we could stay just a little while..." Legolas let his hand slide lower from her stomach.

"Hm. Not a bad idea... There is this page in the book where they are in a bath, and–"

A blaring hoot from outside the window made them both jump. Bleep-bleep. Burrrrrrrrr.

Legolas winced. "Oh no. Gimli has brought his horn blower."

"Oy, lad!" Gimli called through the door, giving it a few thumps for good measure. "Everyone's waiting for you so we can start the party."

Legolas gave Lasriel a heated look. "Hold that thought until later, will you?"

She returned it with an impish grin. "I will."

~♕~

Lasriel didn't mind having to postpone their marital activities; attending a party with her husband was a treat as well. The beer was strong, the roast meat from the smoking pits melted on her tongue, and the music was different but amazing. Huge drums accompanied the horn and the deep, steady rhythm reverberated through her bones, making it nearly impossible to be still.

"Let's dance!" Legolas yelled into her ear.

"Aye!" This day just kept getting better.

They joined the crowd at the impromptu dance floor, full of dwarves and elves, their faces flickering red in the firelight. Evening had fallen without Lasriel noticing it.

Gimli danced past them with Cheery in his arms and further away Galion and Nellas swayed in beat with the music, closely intertwined.

When Lasriel's feet hurt they returned to a fire pit for more drinks.

Gimli handed Legolas a foaming jug. "There you go. But don't let it get to your head."

"Might I remind you who of us is the most delicate when it comes to strong beverages?" Legolas smirked. Then he lowered his voice, and added: "I take it things are going well with Cheery?"

"Aye." Gimli chuckled. "Remember the steps I told you about? Well, I've completed the first one – that's where you figure out what gender they have – so now I need to get an opportunity to undress her and see if she lied! And then the pointy end–"

"Thank you, I don't need to know the details."

"Gimli, Legolas!" called a man's voice through the din. "Great party. Can we join?" It was Faramir and his wife.

Gimli greeted the newcomers with a surprised smile. "Of course!"

"We were in the vicinity and could not help hear the music," said Faramir.

"Aye, nearly all the way from our new summer residence." Éowyn chuckled, indicating Emyn Arnen far in the south. "We've been staying there for a couple of days," she continued. "Cheery and his people did a great job with it."

"Her people," Gimli corrected. "Or so she says..."

"I have good news, Legolas," Faramir interrupted, passing him a folded scroll. "It is a letter from Lord Ereb. Apparently he caught word of our plans to restore Ithilien, and he says he wants to help with the funding – and lend us workers!"

"Lord Ereb? I thought he didn't care anything about the outside world." Legolas skimmed through the letter. "It says here he wants me, specifically, to visit him. Why?"

"I know no more than you do."

"Who is Lord Ereb?" Lasriel asked.

"A very secretive man from an island called Tolfalas. He didn't even join the war – or send any warriors. I wonder why he has suddenly taken an interest in our afforestation project?"

"An island..." Galion sidled closer with Nellas in his wake. "I have never seen the sea."

"I have," said she. "It is large and blue."

"When are we going?" Lasriel repressed a twinge of worry. For some reason she had a bad feeling about this secretive lord, but she couldn't explain why.

"Not we. I am going there."

Lasriel's foreboding increased manifold. "I must go with you."

Legolas shook his head. "It is too dangerous; pirates and Corsairs occasionally roam the mouth of Anduin and the boat journey is treacherous as well."

"You should not go either if it is that dangerous!"

"Don't worry, I am coming with him," said Nellas. "I can fight. And swim."

"Me too," Galion added with a grimace.

"Let us not discuss this tonight." Legolas sounded determined. "This is a party, right? Anyone want more ale?"

A lot of the fun had gone, however. Lasriel ate, drank and danced but her heart was not quite in it. Her thoughts kept returning to the strange man and his invitation, and after a while another worry crept up on her. What if the sight of the ocean and being on an island would worsen Legolas' sea longing? What if he left her?

The mere thought made her cold and nauseous. She had to come with him.

Perhaps she could pretend to stay behind, but then sneak after him? She could join him when he had gone too far from home to send her back...

But no, she had promised him to be honest. No more secrets. No lies.

Legolas came over. "Perhaps time to go home and sleep?"

His hopeful look made her even more determined to speak her mind, and as soon as the door closed behind them she did.

"Teach me self-defense. Then I can do the shopping in Osgiliath and journey with you."

"Lasriel..."

"I need this," she insisted. "You cannot force me to stay here."

He fell silent momentarily, as if he thought of the right thing to say. "Nay, but I can beg you." He softly cupped her face between his hands. "I don't want to lose you. Please. This is for the best."

The unusual warmth and affection in his eyes nearly swayed her resolution. But only nearly.

She caught the hem of her sleeve, twisting it between her fingertips. "You said to tell you if... you were wrong about something. And – you are. Wrong, that is. What you suggest is not for the best."

His baffled look would have been rather amusing if she had not been so nervous.

"Back in the day, it was common for ellith to fight alongside the ellyn," she continued. "Our naneths did. Galadriel did too. I need to be able to defend myself, and if you won't teach me I will buy a book and learn on my own. Please don't be angry."

This time he was silent a lot longer, but then he slowly shook his head. "Of course I am not angry." He tried to smile, though it became more of a grimace. "Alright, I will teach you. But don't complain if it is too hard work. I will treat you like any recruit back when I was a guard in my adar's realm. No leeway."

Lasriel's chest became so full she felt like she might lift from the ground and sail away like a kite. She had stood up for herself! And he had listened.

"Do your worst," she said, falling around his neck so she could kiss him straight on the mouth. "I am not afraid of you."

A/N:

I know, I know, this chapter is VERY late. Life happened, but now I'm back in the game. :D