~ Wynne is packing and ready to elope when someone arrives. ~

59. Plans Undone

The day's meeting took a lot less time than the one yesterday had, and Wynne later learned that somehow all the Rohirrim lords apparently had changed opinion overnight and suddenly become very positive to the idea of peace with the Emyn Muil orcs.

The extent of Mother's influence was intimidating, and somewhat surprising too. How had she come to be that powerful? Their House was no more famous than any of the others.

In the evening Aragorn threw a grand feast and the atmosphere in the huge room was merry. Wynne was happy for her friends, and tried to laugh and celebrate with Sidra and Nugu, but it was hard when she was so worried about her impending elopement with Legolas.

When it was time for dinner she was almost thankful to be placed with her family at another table.

Mother enjoyed herself immensely. Her fit of temper that morning had long since passed and now she was busily planning the wedding, albeit only with Wynne and Father; thankfully she had not yet attempted to speak to Thranduil. The Elvenking's features were neutral where he sat next to Aragorn and Éomer, but the glares he sometimes sent their way talked for themselves.

"How come the other lords do what you say?" Wynne interrupted in the middle of Mother's oration about the immense guest list she would make.

"It's easy, really." Mother smiled and this time it reached her eyes. She had had several glasses of wine and was in an unusually friendly and talkative mood. "Men use their fists to get their way, women use their brains. Why fight when you can negotiate? All one needs is the proper leverage." She took another sip. "What you do is you find out their weaknesses. Everybody has something they need, or wish to hide, or something they fear. And then you exploit that."

"Morwen has gathered information about the other Houses for years," said Father, a tint of pride in his voice.

It was rare that he joined in a conversation, and Wynne blinked at him in surprise. Perhaps he had had a little too much wine as well.

"I have," Mother agreed. "And you must also not forget the little favors we bestow upon them every now and then. A gift here, a discount there, putting in a good word for someone who needs it – such things work wonders to secure continued friendships."

After dinner Wynne slowly walked past Legolas and nodded in the direction of the statue where they had talked the last time.

He readily joined her there, unnaturally cheerful in a disconcerting way. "So, this is great, is it not, the peace treaty signed already? And we elope tonight." His cheeks were flushed but he didn't seem drunk. Something was clearly wrong.

"What happened... after I left? Was Thranduil very angry?" Stupid question. Of course he was angry.

A shadow passed over his face and his smile waned. "Aye." He didn't elaborate further and this was not really a good place to talk.

"Mother was too. Because we didn't... you know."

"That was just about the only thing my father was happy about." His weak smile returned. Then he took her hand and pulled her close. "I have been talking to Aragorn and explained the situation," he whispered urgently. She could hear how nervous he was. "He is on our side in this, but he cannot help us openly unless he would risk his good relations with Rohan and the Woodland Realm. He has commanded the city guards to allow us to leave without questions, and if anyone asks later they will say they slept on their post. Can you meet me by the Great Gate at midnight?"

"I will meet you there. But is everything really alright?" she whispered back. She tried to catch his eyes, but he had averted them.

"See you later, then. Good luck." And he was gone.

Her stomach behaved oddly the rest of the evening, churning and flipping whenever she thought of their eloping, and she worried a lot about Legolas' strange mood. Everything was not quite right, something must have gone wrong, at least in part. But there was nothing she could do about it; he was staying close to his father the rest of the evening and she didn't dare approach him there.

The feast would last until past midnight. Wynne excused herself early and left her parents on the dance floor. Before she went, she looked at them one last time. Mother, so beautiful and elegant, happy for once in Father's company, and he too seemingly enjoying himself even though he was no great dancer.

It was odd to know she would never see them again, and Wynne felt a pang of guilt about leaving without saying goodbye. Her chest grew tight and she had to turn away to hide her tears.

oOo

Back in her room, she changed into her usual outfit of tunic and hose and began to pack. It was difficult because her fingers shook so badly and her tears made everything damp, but she just couldn't stop crying.

There was a knock at the door and she froze. Who could that be? The feast wasn't over yet, she could still hear the music.

It must be Legolas. Perhaps something had gone wrong? She hurried to open.

When she saw who was outside her heart nearly stopped. She had escaped the goblin only to be caught by the wolf.

"May I come in?" Thranduil's voice was calm and he didn't look angry. But that didn't mean anything; he was very good at hiding his emotions.

She silently backed away from the door, allowing him to pass and take a seat in her chair. She sat opposite on the bed – or flopped down rather, feeling weak like a newborn colt.

"Going somewhere?" He nodded at her half-packed bag.

"Yes."

"With my son, I presume."

"Yes."

"I got the impression it was not to happen for many days yet. Clever. He fooled me," he mused, a brief smile flickering across his lips. But then he assumed a stern face. "Legolas told me of your plan to elope and hide, and I will say the same to you as I did to him. I do not allow it." His voice was firm. "I will never let my son, the Prince of the Woodland realm, to creep around in the woods like a lawless criminal. For him to give up his home, his status, all of it, because of the trickery of a shrewd human woman? Never. It cannot be. It shall not be. I would rather agree to Morwen's schemes then. You would marry properly after a year's betrothal and then live in my palace." He moved his chair closer. There was real concern in his eyes and his voice sounded more tired than anything else. He wasn't trying to frighten her, not this time. "I tried hard to make my son understand this, not that it did much good. I never knew he could be so stubborn."

"My mother would ruin everything if we married properly," mumbled Wynne.

"I know. And there is something... I have arranged something else. But before I go into that, I need you to understand. To really understand." His gaze was intent. "I told you before about the immortality of elves and how marrying a mortal would affect Legolas. You would die and he would feel the loss of you for the rest of his life. But that is not all. When an elf loses..." He hesitated, suddenly looking very vulnerable. "When you lose your loved one – if you are an elf, it can kill you, and in a horrible way too. You waste away... grief eating you from within until there is nothing left of your soul, and your body is naught but a hollow shell."

Wynne knew he talked from experience; this was about him and Legolas' mother. But if he was hurting so badly, why had he not sought healing in Aman? There were many tales and songs about elves who followed their loved one to the next world.

"Sometimes, though... there is another one you could love," he continued. "Such as– such as your son..." His gaze shifted to the window. His eyes had become misty. "I had nearly given up. I would not even look at him after he was born. Elven pregnancies are difficult. It is a dangerous process, even for mortals, but even more so for our kind. There are so many things that can go wrong." He swallowed thickly. "Legolas' mother did not make it. I had nearly died from grief when one of the healers forced me to hold the baby. And when I saw him... my little leaf..." His voice was distorted and a single tear trailed down his smooth cheek. "Then I... I fell in love with him, so to say. And I decided to survive for his sake."

His open sadness was almost more frightening than his rage this morning. Unfathomable pain was written plainly in his normally so carefully neutral features.

"Here is what you need to understand, and what I am suspecting Legolas has conveniently deemed unnecessary to tell you; if you have children, they will not be immortal."

"They will not?" Wynne could only stare at him, a lump forming in her throat. "But Arwen is thousands of years old..."

"Arwen is a special case. She is of Tuor's bloodline and only his son Eärendil's descendants are allowed to choose immortality – a decree made by the King of Valar. In the other very few instances in history where elves have married humans their offspring have been mortal. I have known several half-elven and seen them grow and mature swiftly like humans, coming into their maturity at an early age. And that means that if Legolas survives the loss of you – which is not at all certain, even if he has children – he will have to mourn their deaths as well. Sooner or later it would lead to his premature, and gruesome, demise." Then he added, almost as an afterthought. "And that, of course, would be the end of me as well. Not that it matters much, now."

"It would kill him... I would cause his death," Wynne murmured. She couldn't believe he had never told her elves actually died of grief. And why had he said their children would be immortal? How could he lie to her about something so important?

"I am sorry if I upset you," he said softly. "I wanted to be sure you knew the alternative before I made my suggestion. There is something you could do that would hopefully save the life of Legolas and make your own life better as well." His cheeks were still damp but he had regained his composure. "I will not try to compel you and I admit that Legolas is firmly against it. But I have a feeling you are the wiser one and I know you will at least consider it."

She nodded mutely. Her mind was in such a turmoil of emotions she didn't trust her voice.

"I want you to run away and hide, not with Legolas, but alone." He took her hand and pressed it. "It would not be so bad as it sounds; I have spoken to Prince Faramir, and he offered to let you live with his wife and him. They will help you. The first nights you will stay in a public guesthouse in the city, I have made arrangements with the owner, and then you disguise yourself as one of Éowyn's servants and follow her home. That way you will be removed from your cruel mother and liberated of her tyranny. And as for Legolas... he will know you are safe, though I will not tell him exactly where you live. When I spoke with him about this plan earlier today, I didn't mention Faramir's name." Again he pressed her hand. "I want to be honest with you. Losing you will not be painless to him, his heart is too committed already. He will hurt, but he will survive, and he will get over the worst of it eventually. It would be for the better."

She didn't know what to say. To leave Legolas... The mere thought made her heart ache. But if her staying killed him? She had been so sure a baby would solve everything, but now she realized it might make things even worse.

"When the two of you are apart you will find it is easier to forget each other. Distance works that way." He smiled wistfully. "Wynne, you are such a sweet girl. Your life is short, it should not be spent in misery. You can love again, I have seen it happen many times. A human who loses their spouse can remarry. There will be scores of handsome young men in Osgiliath who would notice you, and in time, maybe one of them can make you happy."

"I doubt it." Her lips trembled and she was unable to check her tears. "I never was very much to look at." She tried to smile, but it probably came out as a grimace. "But y-you are right, this is for the better. I will do it." She hid her face in her arms.

"Oh Wynne... Thank you. You do the right thing, the right thing for both of you." He stroked her hair softly. "I am sorry it has to be this way. I truly am."

"J-just tell me where to g-go."

"The guesthouse is called 'The Homely House' and is located in the third circle, just to the right when you come down from the second level. A white, two story building. And... if Legolas expects you to run away with him tonight, it is best you go there directly, before he comes looking for you."

"I'll just finish packing," she mumbled, still into her arms.

"Do not linger." He pressed a kiss on the top of her head. "Goodbye, Wynne. I am going to miss you very much." His voice was strained.

A/N:

Another plan ruined... the options are narrowing down. 

A note about the half-elven again: Thranduil grew up in Doriath so he must have met both Dior (Lúthien's and Beren's son) and his three children. He might also have met Eärendil in the Havens of Sirion after Doriath's fall, and his twins Elrond and Elros. Eärendil's family were given the choice of immortality later, after the War of Wrath, but they were born mortal. That can be deduced from how early Eärendil and his wife married, at 22. An elf would have been a young child at that age. And Dior married at 27.