Book 3: Where It Ends [Legolas]

Chapter 43

Three fights and one incident in the market were the only altercations Linnéa and Legolas needed to handle in their first few days on the throne. Hardly matters that threatened alliances, but personal ones neither wished to escalate further. The offenders were managed with class and authority. At least none of them were unreasonable or needed a night in the cells to cool down. And as the week winded down, households began to depart. Those from Gondor were the first. They wished to move through the southern mountains before it grew too cold to travel comfortably.

"Do not hesitate to send a letter," Arwen spoke. "Should you need our assistance or merely wish to talk."

"I'll be certain to do so," Linnéa reassured. The queens embraced one another tightly. "I was happy to see you. Though these days went by too quickly for my liking."

"I couldn't agree more."

The queen's eyes flickered over Linnéa's shoulder to where Aragorn and Legolas conversed.

"Enjoy yourselves," Arwen said. "The both of you. As a ruler of a kingdom there will be hardships the two of you face, along with balancing a new marriage. Then there's the fact you are attempting to have two races live in harmony when they haven't for centuries."

"We'll manage," Linnéa said with confidence. "As long as we work together."

"Then you shouldn't have any trouble."

Eldarion rushed forward into his mother's legs, who quickly scooped the child up into her arms.

"Say farewell to your aunt, Eldarion."

"Bye, bye," he answered, speech drawling a bit.

The Queen of Erebor smiled, planting a kiss on the boy's cheek. "Goodbye, Eldarion."

Legolas and Linnéa moved into the market, to show their faces and to pass time before overseeing a tournament later that afternoon. While the king talked with a few members of his kin, something caught her eye. How an individual working a stand seemed to steal glances at a certain Horse-lord inquiring about some weapons at another vendor. Linnéa excused herself, sneaking up behind the man.

"You won't find a better blade," she said.

He jumped, not expecting her to be there. A smile spread across her lips.

"Made in our forges only a few months ago."

"Did you make them yourself?" Éomer asked.

"No, but I oversaw their craft. One of our new recruits, and she shows a lot of promise."

"I was thinking of a transaction before we departed. To arm my men with reliable weapons. I trust anything you and your kin have to offer."

"It's a bit heavier in weight compared to the weapons made by the Horse-lords of Rohan."

"A good warrior will adapt."

His head nodded towards the king and the Elves in his company.

"Will you be introducing Elven weapons into your forges?" Éomer inquired.

"I will. Not only for Legolas's benefit, but for those that wish to pass through for equipment on their travels. It's an art I look forward to learning. I've already been told one of the blacksmiths from the Greenwood is looking to stay in Middle-earth. I've been trying to recruit them for the last few days."

"And how has that been?"

"I believe that I am succeeding."

Éomer chuckled. "With your persistence, I don't doubt it."