Sauros met us the next day, just like he promised.
“Did he behave?” I asked when Sauros gave me Ladicilion.
“Yes, like a dream. And here are your things,” he said, handing Legolas three packs. “But your weapons are right here.”
He took off the weapons that he was wearing that were mine. I assume that it was easier to wear the weapons than carry them. I made up a little bed on the ground and laid Ladicilion down on it. Then I took out a pair of trousers and a tunic that Sauros had brought me (they were my traveling clothes, though Sabros never let me travel) and went a few yards into the forest to change. The clothes were such a relief from those dresses! When I came back to where the men were sitting, I saw that Legolas was holding Ladicilion. I stopped and stared at him. Legolas eventually looked up at me.
“Oh, I didn’t think you would mind,” Legolas said hurriedly, standing up and walking over to me. “I assumed that it would be okay.”
He started to hand me Ladicilion, but I wouldn’t let him.
“No, no. It’s okay. It just shocked me to see you holding him,” I explained.
I wasn’t lying. I was shocked to see the elf who hated my husband more than I did, holding his child.
“Are you sure?”
Legolas smiled and looked down at Ladicilion. He seemed so comfortable holding him. He started rocking back and forth, then he looked at me.
“He has your hair,” he commented.
I nodded. It was true. Ladicilion did have my dark hair, but he had his father’s green eyes. It was odd, seeing Legolas holding my husbands son. I would have thought Legolas would be repelled by him, but instead, he was acting as if Ladicilion was HIS child. I walked over to them and laid my hand on Legolas’s arm as I looked over his shoulder at my son.
“Can I ask you something?” He asked in a whisper, for Ladicilion was almost asleep.
“You just did.”
Legolas gave me an annoyed look that was soon replaced by a concerned one.
“Did Mekero … Sabros …my brother, did he love his child?”
Legolas turned to look at Ladicilion as the baby cooed.
“Very much so. Perhaps, the only one he does love,” I answered.
Legolas went quite. Sauros stood up and walked over to where we were standing. I had almost forgotten that he was there.
“I’m going to have to leave now, alright?” He asked.
Legolas nodded, not taking his eyes off his nephew.
“Yes, Sauros, that is fine. Thank you for your help,” I said for Legolas and I.
“Your welcome, Your Majesty,” then, turning to Legolas, “Your Highness.” He bowed to both of us and then left on his horse. I fixed the bed that I had made for Ladicilion and made it more efficient. Legolas laid him down gently.
“I need to talk to you,” he mouthed.
I nodded in response and headed a few yards away. I could still see my son, but wasn’t close enough to wake him.
“What?” I asked.
“About Ladicilion. My father… I’m not sure how he’ll take it,” he muttered, looking at the ground.
“Ladicilion is his grandchild, what do you mean you’re `not sure how he’ll take it’?”
“I mean that Sabros, obviously, isn’t his favorite person! Ladicilion is Sabros’s child, and yours. I’m not even very comfortable with bringing you within my fathers sight.”
“But in Mirkwood, your father seemed to love me,” I protested.
“That was before you married Sabros and before you excepted that you are evil.”
As soon as Legolas said these words, he regretted it. I could see it on his face.
“I’m evil?! You think that I am evil?! How can you think that, Legolas? You know me better than anyone else in Middle-earth,” I screamed.
“Then why did you help him destroy Rivendell?” Legolas asked in a anger whisper.
“I didn’t willingly help him! He forced me.”
“He forced you? And how did he do that?”
I wanted to answer, `Have you even seen the look in your brother’s eye when he is prepared to kill?’ Instead I answered, “He didn’t exactly force me. It was more of an implied threat.”
Legolas tilted his head back and laughed.
“An implied threat?! That was enough for you to let him attack Rivendell?”
I started to cry.
“Oh, don’t even pretend to shed tears for what you have done. Evil has no feelings. Sabros has proved that to me.”
“Legolas, I’m not evil,” I chocked through sobs.
“Nevertheless, I will take you to Mirkwood, but not for you. For my nephew,” he said, turning back to wear Ladicilion was sleeping.
I dropped to my knees and Legolas turned back to face me. I don’t know where my next words came from, perhaps from Jesus Christ, or from the Valar, but they were words foreign to me.
“Legolas I humble myself before thee, for I am just a slave to my love for you. I am not evil, for no evil could penetrate the heart that which you have stolen. I am weakened at the thought that I am no longer yours, and that I no longer hold a place in your heart. I beg for your forgiveness for all the wrongs that I have done you. I beg for you to forgive my betrayal to your heart.”
I bowed my head to the ground and continued to sob. I wrapped my arms around myself in effort to comfort the pain inside me. A few moments later, I felt Legolas kneel beside me. He put his hands around my waist and pulled me up to my feet.
“I do not sincerely believe that you are evil, Moriwen. My anger is what caused those words,” he explained.
“Why are you angry at me?”
“Not you. My brother… Sabros. He has everything that I wanted. You, a child…,” Legolas’s voice
“An evil empire?” I finished sardonically.
“Not that. But my forgiveness… there is no need for you to ask of that, for you already have it.”
I looked at Legolas’s face and saw the genuine love that I missed seeing. Legolas leaned towards me and our faces were less then an inch apart when Ladicilion woke up and started crying. We both turned away from each other and laughed.
“Your son is very smart,” Legolas said as he stood up.
“Of course he is! He takes after me.” I accepted Legolas’s hand and he helped me up.
The next day, Legolas and I headed toward Mirkwood. Legolas held Ladicilion in front of him with one arm because he was the better rider and I was worried that I would let my son fall. We rode for a month, only stopping to take care of the baby. Once we reached Mirkwood, I was once again nervous. How would the King react?