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Fifteen Years	By : Ertia Category: -Multi-Age > Het - Male/Female Views: 14168 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Disclaimer: This is not my garden. I just play in it.

I'm posting this one early because JennL's questions kind of jumped the gun a little.

There's a lot of explaining in this chapter and some questions are answered here. There are a few that are not, but you'll just have to be patient monkeys! Trust me. There is a method to my madness! (and it's not just to get Legolas into the amorous clutches of Lord Celeborn.)

What!?! Why are you looking at me like that? I DO have other motivations, you know! :D

You do get to see Thranduil being a bit more...human for lack of a better word, in this chapter.

One note: there is a big difference between the usage of the word concubine and the word courtesan.

A concubine is, by definition, a harem member, or second wife. The word carries connotations of slavery, of lack of status and standing in society. A concubine has no opportunity for exercise of free will, and is in servitude (or second, third or fifteenth wife-dom) for life.

A courtesan is, in the definition of Susan Griffin, author of "The Book of Courtesans: A Catalogue of Their Virtues", more like a prostitute, but one who holds standing in society, and has influence within the Court, and with those around her.

The famous French courtesans were often widows, heiresses, or the poor stepsister who chose to use her body to rise in society, rather than go quietly into a nunnery. They encompassed poets, artists, dancers and actresses, all of who left their indelible marks upon the societies of France and Britain. The courtesans of our history were the lovers of kings, and the play-toys of the rich. They were free, and alive and vibrant, taking risks, and working behind the scenes of proper society, where a whisper of a rumor could mean the rise of a bishop or the fall of a king.

In "Fifteen Years", Mirie's list of what makes a good courtesan comes pretty much directly from Griffin's chapter headings. I've tried very hard to portray Mirie as a free spirit, one who is the ideal Courtesan. As you're about to learn, she did not come by it easily.
That should be enough information and give enough hints about where this is going to relieve a few concerns without giving the whole thing away.

Elves, as we know, are free spirits. None can bind them to a life of servitude, lest they corrupt them entirely. Of course, Thranduil would never sell his children into slavery. (Well, he nearly does in my next story...but that, as they say, is another tale, for another time. ) Legolas must come to his conclusion on his own, with the evidence laid out before him. - Now, I return to our umm... not so regularly scheduled, chapter. :D

Fifteen Years In Lothlorien
Chapter 5: Princely Decisions
Mirie and Legolas strolled in the garden and talked, surrounded by the gentle scents of the spring garden, the warm damp earth, and the whisper of the spring winds through the mighty oaks.
She told him all she knew of Courtesanship, and shared with him her own experiences of accepting the collar. "It would be different for you, Legolas. You're very different from the elleth I was when I took the collar.

"I was a spoiled child, left to be raised by my grandfather after my parents were slain. I took what I wanted and thought only of myself. I seldom had a thought in my head for others. When my grandfather wished to sail, I was angry with him for wanting to leave me. I would have been so selfish as to argue with him, to keep him upon these shores until he faded from grief. It was The Lady and Lord who offered me solace in the form of a distraction."
"At the time, I was bereft, angry, and selfish. I had never had to serve another, and yet, I would have done anything to take away the pain and abandonment I felt at my grandfather's sailing. So, after talking long with the Lady, and with her head Courtesan, I thought perhaps thirty years might not be too long."
Mirie's eyes glistened, but whether with sorrow or amusement, Legolas was uncertain. "I thought I could have whatever I wanted, whomever I wanted. I was already familiar with the court, with the desires and secrets of those within it. I saw it as a grand opportunity. I wasn't aware then of what it truly means to submit, to give all yourself to another in trust. Although Galadriel warned me, I could not realize what it is like at that moment when the collar is soldered about your neck, and you put your hair down for the first time.
"The soul of an Elf, My Prince, is not meant to be enslaved. It will resist the collar no matter how well intentioned and willing the courtesan is."
"And you resisted?" Legolas asked curiously. Mirie had always seemed to him to flow with whatever was around her at the time. The idea of her as a spoiled elleth being brought under control was beyond him.
"Not openly, but physically. I was ill for a few days, my throat swollen so that I could barely swallow. Others become morose. Some are ill for a weeks. But some few wear the collar as though it were always a part of them. Imliere tells me that when it was placed about her neck, she felt completed, as though her purpose was in that moment defined."
"You said you agreed to thirty years?" Legolas asked, confused, "But you have been here longer than that."
She nodded, a smile lighting her face. "My original contract was for thirty years. The first ten, I was solely the property of Lady Galadriel. Another twenty years passed as a general courtesan. At the end of that time, I was offered an extension of my contract, to serve the Galadhrim who guard the borders of Lorien. I agreed. When that extension ended, I requested one hundred years. I have served here for a portion of that time, and I go to Imladris next. After Imladris, I return to serve out the rest of my contract as sole property of the Lord Celeborn. Then..." She paused, her eyes gazing up at the green leaves above, "Then I think perhaps it is time for me to go on to other things. None are meant to serve forever, My Prince, and I feel in my heart that my time is ending."
"What will you do then?" Legolas couldn't help but ask.
Mirie sighed, a girlish smile lighting her face as she shook her loose hair. "I will braid my hair full of impossibly shiny ribbons, put on the most beautiful, elaborately embroidered gown in the brightest colours and finest satins that I can find. I will hear my true name spoken aloud for the first time in over two hundred years. After that..." and her eyes twinkled, "Well, I am certain I shall find something to occupy myself."
Legolas pondered her words for a moment. "So Mirie is not your true name?"
"Oh no. Most all courtesans change their name when they take their collar. It is a way of distinguishing what was from what will be, and a promise to return to yourself in the end." Mirie stood and brushed her skirt free of the bits of spring grass that clung to it.

"If you are considering what I believe you are, Prince, I would encourage you whole-heartedly. You have the strength, spirit, and compassion to do well as a Courtesan. However, you must search your own heart and see if this is what you truly desire."
She paused, reaching out to squeeze his hand lightly, "It is not an easy path, My Prince. It has its trials, and its rewards. Know that if you go to Lothlorien, you leave the Elf you are behind, and you must be able to face that Elf when your contract is up and you return home."

With that, Mirie swept from the garden, leaving Legolas standing amidst the flowers, considering long her words.

He had entirely forgotten about working out his aggressions and returned his bow and sword to the armory. Quietly, he slipped into the Great Library and searched the shelves. Plenet wandered by and asked if he could help him find something, but Legolas told him no. What would the staid scribe think if he knew what Legolas was searching for?
Searching the Social Customs section, he came across a small blue book, with fine gold lettering entitled, "Traditions of the Courtesans". It was penned by someone with only one name, Toress, and the first pages told that the author was a Courtesan of the House of the Golden Flower in Gondolin, before the fall of the hidden city.
Legolas settled himself on a window seat, book in hand, and lost himself in the intrigues and tales of the lives of Elves who chose to serve the people of Gondolin as Courtesans. Toress was a stiff writer, his wording very formal, and Legolas got the distinct impression that he focused notably on the intrigues of other Courtesans in order to downplay his own roles in those intrigues. But then, what historian didn't paint himself into the back-ground?
Carefully, Legolas re-read the notations of the oath of the courtesans and the strict requirements that were held to by the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower. Toress described various punishments for disobedience, and the domineering manner of his lord in the sexual aspects of his own interactions with his courtesans. (That section made Legolas squirm uncomfortably in the window seat as the intriguing images it conjured made his body reminded him forcibly of his repressed sexual tension.) It seemed to Legolas that even as even as these things were described in detail, Toress described them with utmost love and respect for his lord.
Legolas had, by now, put two and two together, and added that lord up to equal the legendary Lord Glorfindel, who was currently in residence at Imladris. Had the Balrog Slayer truly been the master of the most renowned and respected courtesans in the city of Gondolin, before his fall with the Balrog? And whoever was Toress? The book held few hints to the identity of the Elf himself, although there was an addendum at the end, pleading forgiveness of the reader and praising in highest praise the Lord of the House Of the Golden Flower, and his memory. So, Legolas considered, the book had been written after the fall, before the return of Glorfindel from the halls of Mandos.
The sun was westering and it was nearly supper-time before Legolas set the book aside, considering what he had read. Toress had painted a clear picture of the formalities and rules, and explained them to some extent, but he had raised more questions than he had answered. Times had changed. The laws had changed, with each of the Elven realms adding and changing them to suit their needs.
When Ninsewel had fallen in love several years before, and become pregnant, Thranduil had sent word to Imladris, and Lord Elrond had generously abolished her contract. No longer was a Courtesan who fell in love to the point of longer being able to perform their responsibilities required to have their contract turned over to their lover in a formal ceremony. Legolas was forced to muse on what else may have changed with time.

Still thinking these thoughts, Legolas made his way to dinner. Flanked by his sister and Maeldor, he tried to focus on their banter and laughter, but his eyes searched the room. He noted Imliere, standing behind his father's chair, serving him formally, even as she responded to the laughter and commentary around her. Ferdal was at a lower table, lute in hand, entertaining the diners around him. His face was still sad, and he kept his eyes lowered, although he seemed to deliberately choose happy songs. Mirie was serving Legolas' brothers, teasing and flirting and complimenting as she poured wine and replaced utensils. At one point, she caught him watching her and leaned low over the table, winking at him as her cleavage was exposed. He smiled back and tilted his glass to her in silent salute.

A few days later, Legolas made his way to the gardens, where he knew Ferdal would be taking in the garden air before attending at breakfast. He found him where he expected to, sitting quietly on a bench and gazing up at the leaves of the trees above. Legolas approached with firm steps, but Ferdal did not seem to hear him.
"Ferdal?" Legolas asked softly, approaching to sit beside him. Ferdal moved over a few inches, and turned a wan smile to the Prince.
"Good morning, Prince Legolas." Ferdal greeted kindly enough, but there was a shadow in his eyes that had not been there days before, when Legolas had kissed him on the greensward before his father's balcony. "What can I do for you this fine morning?"

Legolas hesitated for a moment, swallowing nervously before simply blurting out, "Ferdal, I have a plan that might keep you here in Greenwood."
Ferdal stared at the Prince, hope not daring to light his eyes. "What sort of plan? This isn't the sort of plan you hatched the time you wanted Maeldor sent out on patrol instead of your Eferell, so you smeared the both of you with poison ivy, is it?"
Legolas laughed in spite of himself. "That did not work out to my advantage, did it?"
Ferdal merely shook his head, the memory of both the prince and his lover blistered red and covered in noxious ointment, riding out on patrol after Thranduil discovered their deceit bringing a nearly true smile to his lips. "Well, then, as long it does not risk my skin, what is your plan?"

Legolas explained, in as few words as he could, what he was considering. When his words at last faded off, Ferdal was looking at him with a new respect, and a deepened concern.
"You would take contract in Lothlorien, in my place?"
When Legolas nodded, Ferdal let out a long breath, and it seemed that for the first time in a week, he sat straighter and said with some hope, "It's been done before, Prince, that younger lords and ladies have taken the collar for a time. But are you certain this is what you wish to do?"
Legolas stood and stretched, breathing deep of the damp spring air. "I am becoming more certain every moment. What do you think, Ferdal? Truthfully? You have known me my entire life. Am I making a mistake even considering such a thing?"
Ferdal moved to his feet and stepped close to Legolas, his bright blue eyes piercing the keen eyes of the Prince. "I think that if you choose to take this path, you will return stronger, wiser, and more capable of serving in your capacity of Prince Legolas Thrandulion than you can imagine. Allow your heart to make this decision, Prince, but do not make it lightly."
With those words, Ferdal gently grasped his arm once and then left him. Legolas looked up once more into the great oak trees above, but a smile slipped across his face. His heart had made its decision. There was only one thing left to do. He left the garden to search out Mirie and enlist her help.

Thranduil stood up, looking down at his youngest son. Legolas sat sprawled in a chair before his fathers desk, one leg hooked over the chair arm. "Legolas, do you understand what you are suggesting?"
"I think so." Legolas tried to make his voice as carefree as possible, but it was difficult when his father was standing with both arms crossed, looking sternly at him in such a way.
"You are a Prince and my son." Thranduil said slowly. "Do you understand what it would mean, to go to Lothlorien, as a servant of that realm?"
Legolas nodded, swallowing slightly. "I've thought of little else for days, Ada. This is not a decision I make lightly. Besides, I would be your servant, under contract to Lothlorien."
Thranduil sank back into his seat and leaned his elbows on his desk, for the first time facing the implications of the plan he and Mirie had set into action. Had he ever really believed it would work? "Let me ask you, are you doing this for your own sake? Or for Ferdal's?"
Legolas paused before answering, searching his heart for the truth. "Both, Ada. My duties here currently are nothing more than following Maeldor's orders. You have forbidden me the comfort of a lover, perhaps justly." He shook his head before adding, "Perhaps I've become too complacent in my responsibilities. Fifteen years is not so long, and it would be something new. And I would keep Ferdal from harm, Ada."
"You are certain?"
"Yes, Ada, I'm certain."
Thranduil nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "Then look at me, ion nin. Stand up and look me in the eye, as if you were any other of my subjects, and tell me that this is the path that is in your heart."
Legolas swung gracefully to his feet, although his heart pounded in his chest. Somehow the formal words that Mirie had told him managed to come from his voice. "My king and father, I would seek the position of Courtesan, for a contract of fifteen years, to be served in the Golden Wood."
Thranduil stood suddenly, and came around the desk, clasping Legolas' shoulders in his hands and looking into his eyes. "Once you swear, there is no going back. Do you understand?"
There was something in the considerate gaze of his father that gave him comfort and steadied his racing heart. "I understand."
'Valar. What would his mother have said at this moment?' Thranduil wondered himself, even as he knew the answer. She would have said that his heart was his own to follow, and that all must take their own paths in life. And then she would have beaten her husband soundly for daring to manipulate their son into such a thing, he thought wryly. Thranduil brought himself back to the present with a curt nod. "Then kneel before me, and swear the oath."
Legolas dropped to his knees. He had chosen this evening to wear his formal robes, dark green with gold trim, and his hair elaborately braided as befitted his rank. He managed to focus his eyes on his fathers ring, as he took a shadowed breath. His words were quiet as he forced them past his lips and into the still air. "My Lord and King, I swear to serve the House of Thranduil, as a Courtesan of this house. My fealty is my obedience. I take this oath willingly and in accordance with my fea as it is held by the Valar. Comfort, succor, care and compliance to you and your house, and those to whom your will commands me, is my will in this endeavor."
Silence followed for a long moment before Legolas managed to raise his hand and take his father's fingers, to lightly lay his lips against the gleaming ring of office.

ta da! Hope that answers a few questions, and doesn't give too much away.

Super duper thanks going out!

Emmess- I didn't torture Legolas this chapter! Wasn't that nice of me?

Nikkeling - Glad you like the last chapter. I felt horrible about torturing our darling like that. Honest. It hurt me more than it hurt him. (good thing I'm a bit of a masochist, huh?)

JennL - Hope this answers some of your questions! I really struggled with the issue of having Ferdal not going just because he'd fallen in love with Thranduil. I just couldn't imagine Galadriel allowing an Elf to fall to grief while in her care... but, like Mirie said, are we really willing to take that chance?
So, ya, thin plot device, I admit it.

I also hope you liked the side of Thranduil you see here a bit better. (And you don't really think that telling Legolas to stop screwing around was torture do you?)

TuxedoElf - Have fun in Lorien! :) (Oh, I did mention that you have to spend the first night with Haldir, didn't I? Warden privileges and all, you know. ;) )
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Fifteen Years