The Shadow Walker

92. The Talk

Legolas

I strode toward the royal wing, mind whirling with affection for Eda, eagerness for the wedding, nerves for the wedding night, and anxiety for the war. I probably wouldn't sleep much tonight.

Noticing the door to Adar's study stood open, I peeked in. He sat with his elbow on the desk, face resting in his palm and fingers rumpling his flyaway hair.

"Illùvatar, Adar, you look like Mordor itself." I walked in and collapsed on a plush sofa, looping my legs over the armrest and letting my back hit the cushion.

He arched a single eyebrow. "You would too, if you had children like mine."

I snorted a laugh. "You know you love me."

"That depends entirely upon the next question is you ask me." He reluctantly sat up and smoothed his hair. "You only flatter when you want something."

Meeting his gaze, I said, "I want to have the wedding feast tomorrow. Eda and I are ready, we want this, and we see no reason to wait."

Adar cut a sharp glance in my direction. "Why the rush? I told you to abstain—is she with child?" He hissed a curse and ran a vicious hand through his hair.

"No!" Heat flushed across my face, and I scrubbed a hand over my cheeks. "Ada, we've waited, and we want to be together." I grimaced. "With your blessing."

He looked at me, then released a long breath. "There's more to this than your beloved Eda. I suggest you inform me immediately."

I rubbed my face—why did he have to be so suspicious? And why did his suspicions always have to be right so often? "There is war in Gondor. Aragorn is tryi—"

Adar shoved his chair back and thrust himself to his feet, spinning to face the back. "I told you to never ask for help for that mortal again."

I slid my legs off the armrest. "Has it ever occurred to you that may be the reason I've been gone for so long?" My fingers dug into the upholstery.

He didn't answer.

I stood and began to pace, hands clenching and unclenching, nostrils flaring. "You wouldn't let me near Tauriel. Fine—I understand. It wasn't political, and she was clearly a bit loose with her affection. But Eda—Queen Amariel—it makes sense. Not only is she a queen, I already know and care for her. You told me this! Why have you suddenly changed your mind?"

"I have not changed my mind!" His suddenly-sharp tone echoed loudly in the confines of the study. Adar released a long, measured breath, and then he glanced at me out the corner of his eye. "When I agreed to this, I expected a year's betrothal." He faced me and leaned down to press his palms into the desk, looking me in the eye. His voice dropped to a harsh whisper. "In twelve months' time, the dark lord will have killed us all, or be dead. You've no business bonding yourself to anyone when either of you could be dead in a matter of days."

Fear tightened my limbs. A fear I'd been pushing away, avoiding for weeks. "Adar, we're going to win this war. We need backup, but we will endure—"

"You don't know that." His jaw clenched, and his eyes darted away. "Twice in my life, I've been in love. Twice I have created a sacred bond, and been blessed with an elfling." He closed his eyes, mouth tightening. "And twice, I lost my wife, and nearly sailed to the Undying Lands for the grief it caused me."

A bit stunned, I sank to the sofa and covered my mouth. He never talked about Lachiel's naneth. I didn't even know her name.

"These are volatile times, Legolas." He met my gaze. "You've grown into a warrior, and I couldn't have asked for a more capable heir. But losing a spouse is like being gutted alive and left for dead."