Title: Agarval
Author: Phoenix
Email: Sherry_Crossan@yahoo.ca
Rating: AU - This story contains violence (after all it is Middle Earth and orcs rarely give wedgies) and there is implied, but not graphic, rape.
Disclaimer: I don’t own the rights to any of Tolkien’s characters except my original ones. I am only borrowing them for a little tale and will return them in fairly reasonable shape (LOL)
Thank
you Tolkien for your mind. It has been a pleasure to visit….
The elves rode almost soundlessly through the lush green woods of Rivendell. Around them the trees sighed in happy contentment, feeling privileged to gaze down upon them. The birth of a firstborn was an occasion to be marked, particularly when it was one of royal blood – as was the sleeping babe that now passed beneath them silently, safely nestled against his mother’s bosom.
The newborn was the first child of King Thranduil of Greenwood the Great and his beautiful wife, Queen Selestriel, of Lothlorien.
Named Legolas, Greenleaf, the child represented the hope and love that his parents had for Middle Earth and their contribution to the world around them. And as the trees whispered excitedly, they were even more happy that the King had allowed his young heir and new mother to traverse among them to Imladris to spend some time with her childhood friend, Celebrian wife of Elrond, Lord of Imladris.
Celebrian and Elrond had twin sons, Elladan (the older by at least a minute) and Elrohir, and her own toddling daughter, Arwen. Selestriel was looking forward to her friend’s guidance as she embraced her new role as a mother, while Celebrian was looking forward to seeing her old friend and of seeing the newborn heir of Greenwood the Great. She felt that great things were to come from this one.
* * *
Lord Elrond, son of Earendil and Elwing, could not help but smile as he watched his normally very well composed wife as she paced back and forth in anticipation of the Queen’s coming, her excitement very difficult to contain.
“My light, you will wear a hole in the floor”, he could not restrain from saying as she turned her ethereal gaze upon him and returned the smile making his heart jump from her attention, “My Lord, I am sorry if my anxiousness is causing you concern, but I have not seen Sele in a very long time…” her eyes glazed over in the fondness of the memory, “not since ‘Dan and ‘Ro were infants.”
Elrond caught the memory and embraced it as he closed his eyes and let out a soft reminiscent sight, “It has been a long time… even for the Edar.”
A shrill cry drew their attention from the past and Elrond shook his head chuckling as his ageless wife ran out the door and stood on the front steps, her luminescent eyes scanning the skies until they lit on the figure of a brown hunting falcon. Turning to her husband, Celebrian’s smile was a light in his heart, “They come Elrond!” She recognized the bird of prey as of being one from the great forest …and constant companion to the royals.
Moments later the sound of horses drawing near brought their sons from the inner halls of the Last Homely Home. Dark haired like their father, Elladan and Elrohir were as excited as their mother to see the Queen of Greenwood the Great.
“Now boys”, their father spoke as if the twins were still youngsters, which compared to him, they were. Although they had seen more then a millennia pass, “Selestriel is a Queen. I expect you to be on your best behavior…both of you, “ his eyebrow raised to still the protest from Elrohir who considered himself the twin dragged into trouble…instead of instigating it.
Elladan bowed slightly hiding his small smile at the look of indignation on his brother’s face, “You need not worry Ada…Ata, we will give you cause to be proud.”
Celebrian reached out and gently stroked first his face and then his brothers, “Elladan…you and your brother always give us reason for pride.”
Blushing slightly, both twins couldn’t help but stand a little straighter under their mother’s praise.
The outrider for the royal party entered the courtyard and stopped. Gracefully, he slide from the horse and crossed the courtyard in a couple of long strides before stopping before the Lord and Lady of Imladris bowing, “My Lord…my Lady, I am Theros of the woodland realm and humbly ride to announce the coming of the Queen and Prince of Greenwood the Great. Is their welcome warm?”
It was a standard greeting for an outrider and was a safety protocol. If for some reason it was not safe for the royals in Imladris… but the Lord could not say such, he was given the opportunity to warn them away without being overt about it. The extent of his warning would be evident in his choice of response.
But there was no such concern in Rivendell so Elrond smiled and bid the wood-elf to stand, “Their welcome is awaited with great anticipation.”
Nodding in understanding, the elf turned and quickly remounted his horse and left the courtyard. It was all formality but beside him, Elrond couldn’t help but notice that Celebrian had tensed slightly as if afraid that he would say the wrong thing and the outrider would warn the royals away.
Reaching over he clasped his wife’s slender hand in his own and said quietly, “Peace fairest being, your Queen is coming.”
Moments later the royal guard of Thranduil’s court silently rode into the courtyard but Celebrian did not notice them. Her eyes were fixed on the raven-haired beauty atop a milk white mare. .
“Selestriel!”
Elrond actually jumped as his wife seemed transformed right in front of him into a young girl as she cried out her friend’s name and bounded down the steps and towards the other.
“Celebrian!”
The Queen was no better and as her eyes lit on the golden haired she-elf, she was off her horse and flew across the stones with such speed that even her royal escort could not stop her. It was a good thing they knew the history between them or they might have been extremely concerned.
Locked in a firm embrace, tears were shed as they kept touching each other’s faces… afraid none of this was real.
“Are they okay?” Elrohir asked his father tentatively as he had never seen his mother act this way before and he was sure, from the looks on the royal escort, that neither had they.
Elrond chuckled quietly as he spoke to reassure his sons, “Worry not my sons…this is nothing. Wait until they get to the babes.”
As if they heard Elrond’s sentiment, Celebrian reluctantly pulled herself away from her friend so she could give her a once over. Satisfied that Selestriel seemed none the worse for wear from her trip, her dark blue eyes darted around in anticipation as she said softly, “Where is your prince mellon-min? I am in anticipation of the young Thranduilion.”
Selestriel smiled shyly and turned back to her escort, “Methos”, she said and an older elf stepped forward. In his arms was a small securely wrapped bundle. The Queen had given her child to the head of the Royal Guard outside the city walls in anticipation of such an enthusiastic greeting…and in fear that she would drop him in her own excitement.
Smiling softly, Methos gently passed the young prince back to his mother. Celebrian had returned to her place beside her husband, as protocol dictated and the Queen pulled away the soft blanket from the baby’s face and bowed slightly to the Lord and Lady as she said formally, “My Lord…my Lady. I am honored to present to you… here in the fair city of Imladris in Rivendell at the house of Elrond…Legolas…Greenleaf, Prince of Greenwood the Great.”
The blanket came away from the face to reveal the cherubic tiny face of the son of Thranduil. Bright sky blue eyes peered up into the face of the Noldor elves as the young prince cooed up at them charmingly.
Elrond could not resist and put his finger out to the small waving fist that had gotten free of the swathing and the baby gripped it immediately. Smiling, he took in the bright eyes that met his and was warmed by the depth of warmth and compassion he saw in little one.
“He is beautiful”, Elrond complimented in truth as he smiled down at the toothless smile, “and is as if Thranduil had been born again”. Which was true as while Selestriel had dark hair and eyes, her son had the golden blond hair and a glow to him so much like his father.
Selestriel blushed, pleased that Elrond gave his approval to her son. She had loved and worshipped Elrond as an older brother since she had first met him and knew he was the only one good enough for her best friend.
“Enough of the formalities”, Celebrian said unable to contain herself any longer, “Give me that baby!” Everyone laughed as the Queen meekly passed her child to her best friend and watched for a few moments as the Lady of Imladris fussed over him delighting in the way he stared intently into her unfamiliar face. She was the first she-elf that he had ever seen with golden hair and he seemed transfixed by her. And then Selestriel turned to greet the twins amazed at how much they have grown.
“Well your highness”, Elladan said trying to sound serious, “elflings have a perchance for doing that when it had been over a thousand years since your fair eyes have lit on them.”
Elrohir gasped in shock at his brother’s jibe even as the Queen laughed and grabbed them both into a tight hug, “So much like your mother…I have missed you…both.” And then letting them go, she glanced around before asking, “And where is littlest Lady of the manor? Arwen? I have yet to lit my eyes on her.” Selestriel glanced mischievously at the twins as she said that.
“She is sleeping”, Celebrian said as she looked up from the baby’s face and smiled, “her brother’s wore her out earlier then usual this morning.” The twins grinned sheepishly but said nothing even as their father wrapped an arm around his wife and her friend, “We are forgetting our manners. Come fair Queen, there is much more to our house then this courtyard.” He caught his son’s gaze and they read his request.
“We will make sure the escort is attended to”, Elladan called over his shoulder as he and Elrohir headed towards the Royal Guards who were standing on vigil behind the royals.
* * *
“Thranduil sends his regrets”, Selestriel said a little while later after she had a chance to freshen up and now joined the Lord and Lady in the Great Room where the fire burned brightly. The baby was asleep nestled against his mother in the way that only babies can, “but we’ve had some dragon problems lately…and then there’s dwarves…always the dwarves.”
Elrond smiled as he shook his head – some things never change, “A king’s job is one that rarely affords a holiday.”
Selestriel couldn’t help but laugh, “Not an elven holiday anyway!”
“Ata?” the sound of a small elfling’s voice caused the adults to turn towards the doorway where a small elf of no more then 2 years old stood holding onto a tattered blanket. Immediately Celebrian moved across the room and picked the child up giving her a warm hug and kiss on the top of her head, “Arwen we have special guests.”
Carrying the little elf towards the Queen, Celebrian pulled a stool over and sat down on it carefully cradling the blurry eyed toddler, “Arwen this is Queen Selestriel. She is my friend from when I was a little elfling…no bigger then you.” Arwen’s beautiful liquid eyes widened in shock, as she had never imagined that at one time her mother was a small elfing like herself. Celebrian laughed as she saw the wonder on her daughter’s face and continued, “And see the little baby. That is Prince Legolas. He is her little elfling.”
Arwen reached out a small hand towards the sleeping baby before looking tentatively up at the elf her mother had called a Queen. When Selestriel smiled and pulled the blanket away from the baby for her to get a better look, the beautiful dark haired elfling gently touched the baby’s cheek. The baby turned his head towards her touch and smiled in his sleep delighting the other elfling.
Her wide eyes turned to her mother as she said in an awed voice, “Can we keep him?”
This made the other grown elves around her laugh fondly and Elrohir was the first to respond, “Nay Arwen, I do not think even the likes of myself and ‘Dan could keep two elflings out of trouble!”
His eyes reflected the deep devotion that both he and his older twin had for the little elf and she immediately turned from the baby and launched herself at her brother squealing in delight, “Ro! Let’s play!”
“Ssh! The baby’s sleeping!” Celebrian scolded even as the twins were already trying to catch the little elfing that was now running at full speed towards the front door, “Don’t let her bother the Greenwood warriors!’
Selestriel watched the three young elves run out the door and shook her head in amazement, “Oh Celebrian – she is so beautiful. But honestly, my dearest friend, did none of your children favor your fairness? They are all as dark as their father.” Elrond cocked up his eyebrow at the jesting comment but said nothing.
Celebrian smiled fondly as she turned back to her friend, “Ai Selestriel…you are one to talk. Your own son looks more like mine then he does yours. But who are we to question the ways of the Valar?”
Elrond listened to the old friends as they chatted on for a while longer about
their children and other things. He did not say much but delighted in the
feelings that he felt from the two. It was nice to see Celebrian in such
freeness as she was now with Selestriel. Good friends have a way of giving one
a lightness that one sometimes forgets they possess.
When the baby stirred, Elrond offered to take him for a tour of the city to allow them some private time and Selestriel graciously accepted.
“Well young prince”, Elrond said later as they sat together on the banks of the Bruinen and he looked down into the serene little face, “what do you think of all this?”
Legolas gurgled and grinned up widely into the dark blue eyes that smiled down at him, “Oh really…all that?” Elrond said arching an eyebrow as if the baby had said something witty.
“Elrond!” the sound of his name made the Lord of Imladris look up in time to see a tall dark haired elf coming towards him.
“Peace Lucian is something the matter?” he asked as he saw a scowl on the other Lord’s face. Lord Lucian was like a brother to him and had recently come to stay as his guest at the Last Homely Home. In that short time, he had become a trusted advisor and confidant to Elrond.
Lucian started to say something and then his eyes stopped on the small elf nestled comfortably in the crook of Elrond’s arm, “Is that a baby?” His voice rang in disbelief as he searched his memory for any mention of a baby born… but to his knowledge, Arwen was the youngest elf in Rivendell…well until this one anyway.
Elrond laughed at the look on Lucian’s face, “Lord Lucian may I have the honor of presenting Prince Legolas of Greenwood the Great, Thranduilon, and guest of Imladris.” Then sounding less formal, he added, “he and his mother are staying as guests of my wife’s as the Queen and my lady are long time friends.”
Understanding filtered across Lucian’s face along with something else that Elrond couldn’t place but before he could ask about it, Lucian turned from the baby, “Of course, forgive me for being impertinent, however I was distracted as I had only just seen the wood realm warriors and feared the worst. But…” his gaze traveled back down to the baby, “ now I understand.”
The baby stirred and whimpered softly beneath the other Lord’s gaze and Elrond looked down at him with concern, “What is wrong little one? Are you missing your mother?”
Lucian gave the baby one more curious look and the baby started to cry. Elrond cradled him to his chest as he deftly stood up and excused himself from Lucian, “I must take my leave…the wants of an elfling only get louder with time.”
The older Lord nodded his acquiescence and watched as Elrond and the infant prince made their way back to the house. A dark thought was forming in his mind and he followed behind them at a slower pace as he considered its merit.
It might just work…
* * *
Four Years Later:
As with elves whose concept of time is much different then a mortals, four years passed in the blink of an eye before Selestriel felt the need to go back to Greenwood. She loved her time in the house of Elrond and relished watching her young prince grow amongst Celebrian’s own children who treated the prince like he was their brother.
Elladan and Elrohir taught him many important little elfling things while Arwen was always there to kiss his boo-boos and scold her brothers when she thought they were being too rough. And Legolas flourished under their attention.
But as with all things, it soon came time to go home.
“LEGOLAS!” Elrohir shouted although he knew the little elf could easily hear him from wherever he was hiding this time. The little prince did not want to leave and he was making this more difficult then it already was. The twins did not enjoy rounding him up to go but they knew he had to.
Selestriel was already mounted and waited for her son to join her. Her large brown hunting falcon, Adria rested comfortingly on her forearm although it too was restless to return home. 4 years for a bird was a long time.
“ Ai-Dulan where have you flown to this time?” Elladan whispered to himself. “Little Bird” was the nickname they had given the little prince when it became clear that he was one whose feet were never meant to touch the ground. The elfling loved heights and took refuge in the darnedest of places.
Lord Elrond spotted the missing elf first and smiled to himself not really surprised at where he had gotten himself.
“Ahem”, he said clearing his throat loudly and when the twins looked at him he cast his eyes upward towards the top of the largest tree that stood just shy of the courtyard. The young prince was glumly sitting near the top on branches that would never support the weight of anyone bigger. Catching on immediately, the twins quickly swung up into the tree and climbed about halfway up. They did not go any further but took a seat on a couple of stout secure limbs.
And then they just waited. The young prince had to make this decision for himself and the twins knew they could not push him. The last thing they wanted for their young friend to feel was like he was no longer welcome in Rivendell.
Legolas watched the twins. Beneath them he could see his mother was still talking to Lady Celebrian as she patiently waited her little prince out. His eyes locked onto those of Adria who had been watching him since he had taken flight into the tree. The hunting bird was curious but did not give him away – although he knew all his mother had to do was but to ask and the bird would fly right to him.
After a fair time, a small soft voice reached the twins ears, “Will you forget me?”
Elladan was stunned. Neither he nor his brother had realized that one of Legolas’s deepest concerns about leaving Imladris was that his dear friends, brothers to him by now, would forget him.
“Nay mellon-nim, to forget you would be forget a part of myself,” his own voice was equally soft but he knew the little elfling could easily hear him.
Elrohir shook his head in denial as well, “Little prince, how could we forget you? You are in here, “ he touched his chest lightly, “and once you are in here…you are in forever.”
Legolas did not say anything for a few minutes as if contemplating what they were saying. They never heard him move down from his perch until he was standing almost next to him. Elladan concealed a smile, the youngster was more at home in a tree then even an elf should be…sometimes it was just eerie.
“Really?” his voice asked and the twins turned so he could see into their faces and realize the depth of their sincerity.
“Really”, twin voices chorused and with a big smile Legolas threw himself at the twins who caught and held him as if to never let him go. In truth this was harder on them then it could ever be on him.
Finally he pulled away and looked into the dark haired faces with his wide blue eyes, “You will come and visit won’t you?”
Elladan reached out to ruffle the soft golden hair as he puffed out his chest and said, “I’d like to meet the elf who’d try and stop us!”
This made the young prince laugh and now that he was reassured that his dear Rivendell family would not forget him, he was ready to go home. In truthfulness, he really did want to see his father.
* * *
Celebrian stood next to Elrond and watched the royal party leave the courtyard. Selestriel turned back one more time and waved good-bye to her friends. Adria screeched from his perch on her arm and with a little rear up onto her hindquarters, the white horse broke into a canter taking the Queen quickly out of Imladris her long black hair flowing behind her like a cape.
Legolas’s voice could be heard laughing as he raced to keep up with his mother. He was still too young to ride by himself and as he ran past Methos, the head of the royal escort snagged him and lifted high up onto his large horse and seated the elfing down in front of him.
The young prince’s protests could be heard plainly even after the elves rode out of sight and it filled the Rivendell elves with warmth as they laughed before turning away to go back into the Last Homely House.
…But A-t-a…I’m a big elf now…
Celebrian paused as she turned back once more to look to where her friend had just disappeared. A tightness gripped her heart and she had a horrible foreboding that that was the last time she would ever see Selestriel again.
As if sensing her premonition, Elrond placed a comforting arm around her shoulders and led her into the house, “Come my Light…the hour is waning away.”
Reluctantly the Lady of Imladris allowed herself to be led away…
* * *
“You can take that up with your father when we get home,” the elf Queen laughed as the young one continued his adamant protests about having to ride with an escort.
Grumbling under his breath about not being able to do anything, the young prince settled back against the strong embrace of the warrior and let the easy gait of the horse lull him to sleep. Selestriel glanced over and smiled softly as she saw her son fade into the elven dreamland.
“Big elf indeed, your highness”, Methos couldn’t help but remark as he caught her glance and Selestriel laughed musically as she answered, “The young dream of age while the aged dream of youth, “ then leaning over her horse’s arched neck, she patted the mare gently as she whispered, “Come Nar’loki, we will soon have the Greenwood giants to greet us…let’s make haste.” The mare responded immediately and broke into a canter, the rest of the other horses matched her strides, as they were all anxious to be going home.
* * *
The Queen was humming to herself when the first creature attacked.
* * *
The sound of a piercing screech filled Imladris and brought the house of Elrond to the courtyard. Celebrian felt her heart lunge out of her very breast as a large brown hunting falcon dove towards them.
She recognized it immediately.
Adria.
“Something’s happened to Sele”, she barely whispered as the large bird swooped and dived around their heads impatiently wanting them to follow. And then her world blurred and she dropped soundlessly to the ground.
* * *
The Rivendell elves, led by Elladan and Elrohir, flew out of the city as their horses sensing their urgency, seemed to have grown wings in their frantic race to reach the Greenwood envoy in time.
In time for what, they had no idea but the bird allowed no doubt in their minds that whatever it was…it was not good.
* * *
“SELESTRIEL!” Celebrian screamed as she bolted up from the bed that Elrond had gently moved her to. He was shaken when she had fainted and his relief at seeing her recovery was only marred by her distress upon waking.
“Peace, my Light…warriors led by your own sons are racing to the Queen as we speak,” the Lord of Imladris watched his wife with appraising eyes, “How do you feel?”
“Oh… my lord.” Celebrian said softly in a voice filled with anguish and not concerned for herself, “I fear it is already too late. I saw her…she…she is passing.” Elrond did not say anything although he closed his eyes at the distressing news. His heart knew she was right.
For as soon as Adria’s cry filled his ears, his heart was allowed a glimpse of the horror that had befallen the wood-elves as a darkness that crept over his soul. Something wicked was close by and it had been hidden from him.
Hidden by whom, he did not know but it was powerful and it had been able to blind his super keen senses from detecting it. And even more vexing, it had muzzled the usually lose tongues of the world around them. The trees had not whispered even one word of danger…if they had Elrond would never have allowed the royals to leave.
“You must leave me”, Celebrian said as she stared deeply into her husband’s tranquil face. He always had a serene calming effect on her and could give her strength when she felt she had none, “They need you.”
Elrond started to protest although he knew she was right. If any of the their woodland kin survived, they would be in need of a healer beyond those capabilities of his own sons. However she stopped him with a gentle finger upon his lips, “Nay Elrond…Legolas needs you. My heart cannot take losing them both.”
Elrond’s gaze locked firmly upon her own. She was right and as he thought about the dark shadows falling upon the fair young prince, he gave her a gentle kiss on her cheek before standing up, “May Valar be kind to the young this day, fair wife. Rest easy.”
And then with quick powerful strides, the Lord of Imladris left the house.
“Hang on ai-taren… hang on little prince,” Celebrian whispered to herself as she closed her eyes and tried to focus her own life energy on the elfling. She could feel his peril and his heartache…his blue eyes were wide with pain and horror…it hurt her to see but she would not look away. It was all she could do.
* * *
The twins and the contingent that rode with them quickly found the Greenwood elves locked in mortal combat with creatures, the likes of which the elves had never seen before. They were as hideous as orcs but more twisted if that was possible. The worst being that they seemed unaffected by daylight!
Time was a privilege they did not have, so without much reflection, the Rivendell elves joined the fray. At least these foul creatures died as orcs did... that was something, anyway.
Elladan and Elrohir covered each other as their eyes searched the area for signs of the Queen or Prince and were disturbed to find none. But then they heard a voice that froze the blood in their veins as it was a voice that while they knew well, they had never heard it as such before. Legolas.
“ATA!!!!”
Beheading and slashing their way around the creatures, the twins made their ways towards the screams and then stopped in shock at the sight before them.
The young prince had been run through with a blade which pierced his shoulder and pinned him to the earth as his mother, swaying and bloodied, crouched over him with her hands held out in front of her in an attempt to protect him from the creature that was, even as they watched, bringing down his knife to kill them both.
Faster then sight, Elladan’s arrow, followed equally quickly by Elrohir’s, was notched and released, striking the creature even as another elf crashed into it from the side. The onslaught was too much as it fell to the side, dead. Its blade harmless on the ground.
“My… Queen!” Methos rasped as he tried to pull himself up off the ground. He was grievously hurt and had only managed to get his senses enough to attack the creature at the last moment possible. His relief at the twins’ timely intervention was evident as he cast his eyes up to them briefly before turning back to the royals.
Elladan dropped down beside them as Elrohir kept guard. The fray had taken a quick turn in their favor once the creatures realized reinforcements had arrived for the elves and they disappeared into the trees as quietly as they had come.
The Queen didn’t answer her guard as she turned back to her son.
“Legolas?” her voice, still as ever beautiful and melodic, hid the severity of her own wounds as Selestriel focused all her attention and life on the small elf that was still pinned by the horrid blade. The elfling writhed with agony even as his mother’s gentle hands tried to still his movements, “Hush, little one. Don’t move…”
Wide blue eyes locked firmly onto his mother’s as she smiled down gently at him,” meleth-min, everything will be all right.”
“We need to remove the blade”, Elladan said softly as he did a quick appraisal of the young prince’s injuries. The Queen gave a faint nod of understanding as Legolas turned to look at him as if realizing for the first time that the twins were there.
“El…” he started to say but it turned into a harsh cough and the older elves’ concern intensified as the cough brought blood up the young prince’s mouth. Elrohir looked down and paled as he realized just how badly wounded Legolas was. The elfling was bleeding internally… they would lose him soon if they didn’t’ take immediate action.
Methos moved to help steady the young prince and keep him from moving as Elladan prepared to remove the blade. He knew this was going to be extremely painful for the little elf he thought of as a brother, and it made his heart lurch knowing he would be the one causing it. But if he didn’t…then they would lose the elfing for sure…there was no other choice.
Elrohir glanced at his twin offering him his quiet support because he knew how hard this would be for Elladan.
“Ata…” Legolas’s voice was weak as he fought to stay focused on her face. His body involuntarily shuddered as he was suddenly very cold and found it difficult to keep his eyes open. He was going into shock.
“Stay with us Ai-Dulan”, Elladan said quietly as he carefully took hold of the knife and prepared to pull it out. Selestriel laid a comforting hand on her son’s tear stained cheek then nodded briefly. On her signal, Methos tightened his grip on the young prince as Elladan quickly pulled the blade from his small body.
Legolas screamed and lurched upwards with the new pain. His mother grabbed him firmly to her bosom even as she pressed her hands on his back to try and stop the flow of blood from the wound. The blade had gone right thru his small body. Elladan stripped pieces of material from his cloak and the Queen pressed it firmly to the gaping wound in his chest as Elladan took over ministering to the wound on his back.
Together they worked fervently to save Legolas’s life, as the young prince lay limp in his mother’s arms.
As they worked behind him, Elrohir’s keen eyes roamed the battlefield and his heart was saddened by what he saw. Except for Methos, who now tended the young prince with his mother and Elladan, the rest of Greenwood elves had been slain. The only elves that moved around him were the contingent that had ridden with them from Imladris.
The sound of an approaching horse drew him from his reverie as the other Noldor elves formed a protective ring around the royals. Moments later, the tension left the warriors as they recognized the rider as Lord Elrond.
“Oh thank the valar”, Elladan hissed as he heard his father’s voice. They were losing Legolas… no matter what they did, the little elf’s blood continued to stain their hands.
“Sweet Eru,” Elrond whispered as he deftly dismounted and knelt down beside his oldest son. His skilled eyes quickly appraised the situation before turning towards the Queen. He knew what he would find even before catching her gaze.
Gently he tried to pull Legolas from her chest but she held tight and shook her head softly, “Nay my Lord Elrond. There is nothing you can do for me. It is beyond even you.” Methos blanched when he heard his fair Queen’s voice, as did the twins. They suspected that the Queen was injured but had no idea just how badly, “Please…save my son.”
Elrond wanted to argue but as he searched deep within the elvenqueen’s soul, he saw what he already suspected – she was dying and there was nothing he could do to save her. She was using what strength she had left to pour into her son and as Elrond’s perception saw the link between her and the young prince, he realized that it was only through her strength that the young one still lived.
Her eyes beseeched his urgently, “Please my Lord… I will give him to you…only if you save him. It is my time.” And there in lay the dilemma… and the reason why she would not give her son to the healer when he first tried to take him. She needed to know that he would heal her son… and not her.
None of the other elves possessed the power that Elrond did…not even his young sons, and she knew that without his strength one of them would have to be lost.
Her fear caused her to doubt his intent as she was sure his love for his wife would make him choose her life over Legolas’s. And she couldn’t allow that. She would only give the elfling to him when she was sure that he would not try and save them both.
Elrond frowned with the knowledge that she was right. His devotion to Celebrian…and his own fondness for Selestriel would have him choose her over the prince…no matter how much like his own, the young elfling was.
Either choice was horrible as the loss of either fair being was something he was not prepared to deal out…however, the Queen was right. They both needed Elrond’s strength and so he had to make a choice.
He just prayed to the valar that he would make the right one…and that the King could forgive him either way.
With a silent nod, he held out his arms to take the child again.
The words would haunt Elrond forever…thank you for letting me die…
The ride back to Imladris was the longest one in Elrond’s life…and considering how old he was, that was something to say. It took all his strength to keep the elfling alive, as his own heart was heavy with the knowledge that while he poured his life into Legolas, Selestriel’s own was fading away.
Daring a glance over his shoulder, he saw the beautiful elvenqueen sitting in front of Elladan. She was smiling at him and it made his breath catch in his throat as overwhelming sadness drank the tears on his cheeks.
Her green velvet dress hid the blood that soaked it but one did not need to see the blood to know she was fading. The faint glow that gave elves their ethereal radiance was dimming and her large expressive eyes stood out against the stark paleness of her face as long dark hair framed her pallor.
She would not live to see Imladris.
“M-my…Lord…” her quivering voice made Elrond slow his horse and turn to her. Reaching between the two horses, Selestriel stroked the golden locks of her unconscious child lovingly. The knowledge that his path and her own were no longer bound in life brought silver tears to her otherwise tranquil face.
Placing her hand on his back, she closed her eyes and focused her remaining strength in this one last gesture…it was something to leave her son…something he would always feel and remember whenever he thought about her
… aminmela lle…I love you…
The feelings of warmth and love flowed through the unconscious elfling and even in his slumber, it brought a smile to his small perfect mouth.
…Ata…mother… the word escaped his lips as a breath but to the soul leaving the body, they were as if the elf had stood on the top of the world and screamed it.
And in that moment, the halls of Mandos welcomed a Queen.
* * *
King Thranduil awoke with a start. His eyes quickly prowled his chamber in search of whatever had drove him from his sleep but the large room was dark and nothing moved.
Sighing, he closed his eyes and laid his head back down when suddenly a small smile played across his timeless face. Selestriel. He could almost smell her intoxicating scent as his thoughts roamed to his beautiful wife. They would be back any day now and Thranduil was both excited and nervous to see his wife and son again after their trip.
Legolas would have grown so much now…and Selestriel.
Thinking of his wife again brought a wider smile to his face. Oh how she would light a room with just her appearance. The palace had sorely missed both her and the babe.
…Thranduil…
The king opened his eyes as he heard his voice. Was he dreaming? It sounded like Selestriel but that did not make sense. They would not travel back during the night…not with a small elfling among them.
He heard the voice again and this time he jumped from his bed and rushed to the window. He was positive it was his wife’s voice.
“Selestriel?” he said tentatively and then he saw someone standing near the edge of the forest. Peering intently through the darkness…his heart felt as if it would leap from his very mouth – it was Selestriel!
As if an elfing instead of a mature king, Thranduil leapt from his window and landed deftly on his feet before bolting towards the spot he saw his wife standing.
Behind him, stunned palace guards started to follow him wondering if their king had suddenly gone mad.
Just as he got close to the edge of the trees, he stopped. Selestriel was no longer in sight.
“Selestriel?” he whispered wondering what madness made his mind see a Queen where there was none. Surely, she would not run from him?
The trees around him rustled and his ears picked up their voices, aged and sad as they sang in a lament that twisted his heart.
They sang of the passing of one whose beauty would never again glow in their limbs or shimmer beneath their feet.
The King listened in earnest as he closed his eyes and focused on their song until it was as if they were shouting it to him. Hot tears burned his cheeks even before he heard their refrain…they lamented the loss of the elvenqueen.
Suddenly he felt a gentle hand on his cheek and opening his eyes, he looked once one into the warm liquid ones of his Queen. Reaching up, he placed his own hand over hers…it was so comfortingly warm to touch.
Selestriel smiled at him, “I love you”, she whispered before placing a light kiss on his cheek, “Take care of my little Greenleaf…”
Shocking realization hit him as he saw her draw away from him and then before his very eyes she started to fade.
“No”, he cried in anguish, “Selestriel…don’t leave me…please!”
* * *
Celebrian held the small pale hand in her own as she gently brushed a stray lock of golden hair from the sickly face. Elrond had done what he could and the fact that the elfling was still alive was a testament to his skill. But still they did not know if it was enough.
Her own heart ached for the loss of her friend and she felt for the little one who was yet to face that grief – his mother was gone. Lost to him for all of time.
A slight movement beneath her fingers drew her attention back to him and she felt Elrond move to stand behind her – the small elf was waking.
Blurry blue eyes opened slowly and she could see the effort it was taking for him to focus.
“Legolas?” she said softly as he stared up at her and the look on his face was almost too much for her.
He knew.
Somehow this little one who had only yet to awaken from near-death knew that his Ata, his mother, was no longer here.
A lone tear streaked down his pale face and he closed his eyes not wanting to see the world that had turned so cruel so quickly and Celebrian reached out and stroked his face. His skin was so soft and he shook slightly under her gentle touch.
The blue eyes opened again and sensing his need, the Lady of Imladris gently gathered the distraught little prince into her arms and held him tight, mindful of his grievous wound, “You are safe, “ she cooed softly as she stroked the back of his head and could feel the small sobs that racked his body.
Elrond laid a comforting hand on top of the little elf’s head as behind him his own three children watched, wordless. The twins were torn in grief for the little elf as Arwen buried her head into Elladan’s neck. She was terrified.
Never in her young life had she known the pain of losing someone to death for it was something alien to her race. They were immortal. Death should not be their fate.
They wanted to leave and let him have some privacy in his grief, but at the same time the twins knew that their presence was more important. What had happened to Legolas was so heinous that right now it was imperative for him to feel safe and loved…more then anything else. So no matter how much it tore at their hearts, the children of Elrond stayed close and stayed strong for the motherless elf.
Finally the little elf withdrew from their embrace and lay back. Turning his face away, his listless eyes sought out the window and he fixed his gaze upon it.
New worry laced Elrond as repeated efforts to break through to the child went unanswered. The little prince did not say anything. He just continued to lay there and stare unseeing out the window until in pure exhaustion, Legolas fell asleep.
“Is he going to be okay?” Elrohir asked as his mother pulled the blanket up to the sleeping elfling’s chin and tucked it carefully around his wounded body. He and Elladan had shared anxious looks when Legolas refused to say anything, no matter what they did. He would not even respond to Arwen, more then looking at her.
The Lord of Imladris sighed deeply as he laid his hand upon the golden head and closed his eyes for a few moments. When they opened he stared down at the child for a long time before answering, “His wounds will heal. He is strong…”
Celebrian caught the unsaid “but” and pressed quietly to not disturb the little one’s rest, “but?”
“But”, Elrond said, his gaze resting upon the prince, “his silence concerns me. He is an elf…a child of light and of love. I fear for him if he turns from who he is and continues to shut him off. However...”
He smiled and turned to his children, his eyes resting on Arwen and he reached and picked his little elfling up, “However, I do think that if we are patient, he will return to us. Ai-Dulan will fly again.”
Ushering his children from the room, Lord Elrond hoped he was right but right now he had a message to send.
* * *
When the king heard the piercing cry of a hunting falcon his heart dreaded the message that he knew Adria would bring…
To Rivendell with haste…
* * *
994 years later:
Lord Elrond held the small piece of parchment tightly in his hands. A messenger delivered it to him some time earlier. He had recognized the brown and green tunic of the messenger as being from the woodland realm… Mirkwood and he wasn’t in too much a hurry to read it. He was fairly certain he knew what it was going to say and wanted to put if off as long as possible.
His youngest son was particularly curious about this message, as he had never known his father to stall when receiving news.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered to the two tall dark haired elves that were standing beside him although he knew that his father could easily have heard him. That was one of the first things he had learned being raised a human among elves – they heard everything!
Elrond sighed as he stood up and turned around to walk out on the small veranda that overlooked the Bruinen River - the heart of the beautiful city, Imladris in Rivendell. He knew his twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, would do a more then competent job of telling Aragorn, son of Arathon, heir of Isildur, why he was in no hurry to read the King’s words – it would be the same as every other time.
And although it had been happening regularly for almost a century now, the rejection still hurt as if it were the first one.
Elves did not keep time the same way as humans and for an elf as old as Elrond, a century was merely a change of the wind, a turn of the time. He understood Thranduil’s rejection…but understanding did not make it any easier.
With the understanding came a guilt…although what had happened had been beyond him to stop – but he still felt like he should have able too…and so did the King.
No, he was in no hurry to read this latest rejection.
“It’s a reply from Mirkwood”, Elladan, the older of the two identical elves, said softly, “From King Thranduil.”
“Ah”, Aragorn said catching on, “A reply to Ada’s invitation to Arwen’s 1000th birthday.” Elves did not normally celebrate birthdays which was good as they were horribly hard to buy for after the first couple hundred, but the passing of the first century was an important milestone in a young Elf’s life. It was like turning 21 to a human and Elrond had sent out invitations to all the nobility to attend – including King Thranduil or someone from his court.
“Yes a reply”, Elrohir said softly. Although the twins looked no older then someone in their mid twenties, the elves were centuries old and understood why their father was hesitant. Indeed it scorched their own hearts as they thought back to that horrible day.
Aragorn caught on from their tone that something was amiss and pressed, “And?”
“And he will say no – just as he always does”, Elladan said sadly as he watched his father. Elrond was looking out over Imladris but the older twin knew that his father was not in the elven city at this moment. No, he was a couple of league out…and almost a thousand years away – 994 to be exact.
Realizing that their father might want some privacy, Elladan grabbed both his younger twin and their human brother and lead them from the room. He understood his father very well.
If Elrond heard them leave, he never gave notice. For his oldest child was right – he was far out of Imladris at that moment.
* * *
“So you want to tell me what’s going on now?” Aragorn demanded as they walked out into the gardens and down towards the stables. Neither twin said anything for a while but continued walking. So Aragorn followed suit. He knew they would tell him when they were ready. He just hoped they would be ready soon, he was not getting any younger and elves did not keep mortal time!
Finally they stopped by a quiet brook and the twins flopped down heavily into the tall grass and looked at each other. Neither wanted to start – it hurt them to remember, maybe even more then their father…in some ways.
Elladan started speaking, and Aragorn was transfixed by the melodic sound of his voice as his oldest brother took him back a thousand years in time…
“Our mother had a best friend”, he said slowly surprising Aragorn. “They had grown up together in Lothlorien until mother married father and Selestriel married the heir of Greenwood the Great.”
Aragorn grabbed a long piece of grass and chewed it as Elladan continued, “Arwen was not more then a babe when Selestrial came to visit. With her, came her own babe, and they stayed for a while drawing comfort from our mother who had the experience of raising twins to help her guide her friend in her new role.”
Elladan smiled back as he remembered it like it was just yesterday. His mother and Selestrial kept the house alive with their musical laughter as everyone in Rivendell was entranced by the two beautiful elflings that were blossoming before their eyes, “It had been a long time since Rivendell had elflings and everyone reveled in their everyday. Arwen doted on the babe and together they kept us on our toes…especially once the babe learned to run… Oh boy could he run.” Elrohir chuckled as he remembered more then once trying to round up the two little efflings – they had been fast!
Elladan was also smiling but then a sadness flashed over his face and he continued, “But then the time came for Selestrial and her child to return to Greenwood the Great….”
His voice choked off unexpectedly as he could remember that day so vividly but he forced himself to continue as Aragorn felt himself tensing up as he saw how it affected his brother. Elrohir had suddenly found a small ladybug to watch to help distract himself. Elladan’s voice was full of emotion and his big gray eyes shone with unspilled tears, “I can still see it as if it was happening right now. The escort was small – only 6 elves. Selestrial refused to ride with any more insisting that the less attention that was drawn to her and the child, the better. She was beautiful and proud as she sat astride a large white horse. Her friend and constant companion, Adria a hunting falcon, was perched on her left arm as she turned to wave…”
As he paused for moment Aragorn asked quietly, “Where was the baby?”
Elrohir gave a small laugh, “Oh Estel – how long have you lived among us that you have yet to understand what the passage of time might be for a ‘visit’?”
Aragorn blushed at the jest and pushed Elrohir back making him flop on his back as he picked up the tale from his older brother, “the baby was by this time 4 man years old and if memory does not fail me…he was complaining loudly about not being able to ride by himself even as they went out of sight…”
…But A-t-a…I’m a big elf now…
Elrohir stopped unexpectedly and shivered as he could still hear the little voice echoing out of the courtyard.
Elladan reached out and gave his younger twin’s arm a squeeze as Ro’s voice caught and the younger one nodded that he wanted to continue it, “they hadn’t been gone for very long when Adria came back. Mother heard him first but within seconds the shrill piercing cry of the falcon echoed throughout Imladris – something bad had happened. There was no other reason for the falcon to have come back…as Dan said, he was always with the Queen….”
“The Queen?” Aragorn said not understanding the connection yet.
“Yes, Selestrial was Queen of Greenwood the Great…she was King Thranduil’s wife, “ Elladan’s quiet explanation made Aragorn’s brow knit in concern as he was starting to puzzle it together and he wasn’t sure he was liking how the pieces were fitting together.
“Immediately we took chase after the prey bird”, it was Elladan speaking now, “Myself, Elrohir and any other elves within hearing…. I have never ridden so hard in my life…” he allowed this one admittance before composing himself and continuing gravely, “we came across the Queen’s escort a couple league from the city. They had been attacked by…creatures…” his voice faltered for a moment as he had no other name for the foul things that had befallen the escort.
“Creatures?” Aragorn repeated incredulously, “that close to Rivendell?”
“Yes”, affirmed Elrohir, “ Creatures. They were like orc… but not. And they moved in daylight with the ease of elves. Some darkness had shielded them from our detection and they advanced on the wood-elves mercilessly…”
Aragorn swallowed as he closed his eyes sympathetically. It was always hard to hear the demise of the firstborn – they were a dying race already. Nothing needed speed that up. Lest of all the evil of ‘creatures’ under the cloak of a darkness.
“At first we couldn’t find them – the Queen and her child”, Aragorn noticed how his brothers had stopped referring to Selestriel by her name and started calling her the Queen once she left the Last Homely Home.
Elladan was speaking again and the young man could tell how painful this was for them to talk about even now almost a thousand years later, “and when we did…” his voice died off unable to finish the image of the brave elvenqueen crouched over the young prince…
No one said anything for a few moments as Aragorn waited for them to continue. Obviously this memory, though old to him was still fresh enough to cause great torment to his immortal brethren. He suspected he knew the ending and tried to spare them having to detail it, “It’s okay…I understand now.”
“No. No you don’t”, The vehemence in Elrohir’s voice shocked Aragorn but nearly as much as the what he said after that, “…they had tried to get away but the creatures were relentless. The warriors fought bravely but in the end 6 warriors were just not enough…no. The royals had fought too. The Queen was crouching over her child when we found them – trying to use her own body to shield him. A creature was almost upon them and we shot him with our arrows even as one of the wood-elves, Methos the head of the guard, used his own body to tackle the beast… But it was not enough…not soon enough…the child had been impaled with a blade that fixed him to the ground through his shoulder…”
The younger twins voice broke off in a sob as he remembered it so vividly. That small body skewered to the earth, “but he was not dead!”
Aragorn’s mouth actually fell open in shock – a small child pinned to the ground by a creatures blade as his noble mother crouched over him – her own body to offer in his place…the image sent chills through his own body. And anger…although a thousand years misplaced.
“We freed him from the blade”, Elladan was speaking again, “he was bleeding too heavily…we could not save him ourselves. And then Ada showed up… but the Queen would not let him attend to the child for she too had been mortally wounded and knew that there was not enough strength to save them both…she would give the child to him only if he assured her that he would not try and save her…but that he would save her child.”
Aragorn was horrified. Not that his father hadn’t been able to save both but about the weight that that knowledge must have been for both Elrond and the Queen.
“A mother’s love”, Elrohir said fondly as he shook his head and thought about Selestriel. He still missed her. She was like an aunt to them, “Selestriel, Queen of Greenwood the Great died on the way back to Imladris…. as it was, the young prince barely survived the ride himself. It took much from father to save him.”
A silence had fallen over the glade as if in respect to the brave elven Queen who had given her own her own life, in place of her son’s. Finally Elladan stood up and brushed the grass from his legs, “King Thranduil and the largest armed escort in Rivendell history arrived to take the young prince home. And since then, he has refused any contact with Ada…or Rivendell. We have visited but he will not allow himself or the prince to come here.”
Elrohir was not so quick to rise as he finished it, “And to make things worst, a darkness fell over Greenwood the Great and men started to call it Mirkwood. It was as if the Queen’s death had sent the forest into mourning….a mourning from which it has never recovered.” Reluctantly he let his older twin pull him to his feet before doing the same to Aragorn. They needed to go back and see to their father.
As they walked, Aragorn wondered, “What does the prince think of this? Does he blame as his father so obviously does?”
This actually made both the twins laugh, “Legolas? Nay, his is a pure spirit full of life, love and passion…nay. We had occasion to visit Mirkwood a long time ago and got to spend some time with our young friend and were pleased to see that if he felt any ill will towards us, he never did anything to show us. In fact, I believe he was trying to convince his father to let him visit – although that was almost 200 years ago.”
Their mirth was contagious and although Aragorn had never met this prince, he already liked him if what his brothers said was true, and he couldn’t resist saying, ‘Well in that case, let’s hurry back. Maybe he’s finally convinced him!”
“King Thranduil? I highly doubt that!” who spoke was lost in the laughter as the three sons of Elrond raced back to their house.
* * *
Elrond was speechless. He read and reread the parchment and was just getting ready to get a second opinion on its meaning when his sons burst into the room.
Before they could say anything, he thrust the message to Elladan, “Here read this – I fear there is some spell on this message and I cannot make out its meaning.”
Worried, Elladan quickly read it before his face light up and he looked at each face before stopping at his father’s and beaming, “Legolas is coming!”
* * *
To say Elrond was nervous would have been an understatement. Even with all the planning and excitement of Arwen’s birthday and return from Lothlorien, he couldn’t help but feel more then a bit preoccupied – Prince Legolas of Mirkwood was due in Rivendell in a day and he couldn’t wait to see him.
The last time he had seen the effling, he was 4 years old and trying to recover from the horror of his wounds and of losing his mother. He was listless and almost catatonic, refusing to speak a word since regaining consciousness. And then Thranduil had swept in with the largest elven contingent of warriors in Rivendell’s history to escort his son home. He was taking no chances.
His words were few and harsh when he spoke to Elrond, “This place is not safe”, and then he spun on his heels and carried young Legolas home. And Elrond had not seen either since. His memory haunted by the last fleeting image of the elfling he had seen as the child lay limp and unresponsive in his father’s strong arms as the King of Mirkwood gracefully mounted his horse and rode out of Imladris.
And it burned his heart immensely.
Especially when he lost his own wife so soon after – ….to orcs.
His own sons had seen the young prince on a number of occasions, although not recently after the fiasco of the last visit, and assured him that Legolas had fully recovered with no more then a curious scar on his shoulder from the deadly blade.
The fact that the knife had scarred an immortal’s body was unsettling to the Lord of Imladris as elves healed without scars…and he often pondered about it, although he felt tremendous relief that the little elf had once again found his voice. The thought of the pale, soundless being that left his house was an image that was not easily erased.
But now, for reasons he had yet to understand, the young prince was being allowed to come back for the celebration though Thranduil made it perfectly clear that he was holding Elrond personally responsible for the prince’s safety.
And that was something he was not going to take lightly. He had lost too many that he held dear to him to the darkness of monsters, he would not lose the young prince. No. That was unacceptable.
Pushing the thoughts behind him, he tried to concentrate on the story that his sons were telling about their latest hunt. But they sensed his preoccupation and Aragorn was just getting to ask his father what was wrong when the sound of a loud commotion sent them quickly to the front door.
A powerful gray stallion reared and pranced around the courtyard of the Last Homely Home. It pawed at the ground and nickered loudly in distress. Seeing Lord Elrond, it quickly crossed to him and tossed his head impatiently, imploring the lord’s help.
Elrond reached out and gently stroked the arched neck as the horse snorted in agitation. Comprehension and then shock flickered across the elf’s – he knew this horse. Not that he had ever seen it before, but he knew this beast carried nobility. It was the horse of a prince. Legolas’s horse.
Faster then Aragorn could even comprehend, his father gracefully mounted the strange equine and was already heading out the courtyard. Elladan grabbed Aragorn’s arm and they raced after Elrohir who was halfway to the stables. Elrond yelled something but Aragorn wasn’t able to pick out the words.
However his elven brothers had no trouble and as they raced towards the horses that were quickly responding to their calls, he heard Elladan hiss, “Not again.”
* * *
Legolas Greenleaf, heir of King Thranduil, Prince of the woodland elves laughed heartily at the look on the face of the sputtering elf, “Peace Rauri, I am sure that your horse merely thought you in need of a bath!”
The wet elf sat on his bottom in the creek and threw his horse a dangerous look. The creature snorted and tossed his head and Legolas deftly slid from his own gray stallion, briefly stopping to rub a strange ache in his shoulder before offering his hand to help his long time friend to his feet. Rauri pushed his hands away and nimbly rose to feet as he wrung the water from his long hair.
“More like he needed to cool down a couple of notches”, one of the other warriors in the prince’s royal escort snorted. Rauri was well known among his friends for his quick temper and had only moments before being tossed by his spirited steed, been in a heated conversation with his brother, Raidruch.
The prince had fallen back to the end of the escort and kept his amusement to himself as the brothers bickered. It did not surprise him when Rauri’s horse tossed him into the water. He had sensed the animal’s growing agitation at its beloved elf as his voice continued in volume until their passing was sure to alert any orc in Middle Earth. Legolas was just getting ready to stop this himself when the horse acted first.
And now an extremely put off elf glared into the gentle brown eyes that stared
back at him. But before he could say anything, Legolas reached out and grabbed
his arm as he said quietly, “Peace Rauri, the beast has done you no injustice.
Indeed it was him that has been wronged. The mild forests of Rivendell chafe
under your ire. I am sure your brother did not doubt your ability but merely his
perception of it. So before you request that this gentle beast bare you any
further, you may need to make amends.” Although his voice was soft, his intent
was clear. It was not a suggestion.
While Legolas loved his friend, he hated the quick temper that sometimes overrode his common sense.
Rauri sighed and looked into the wide clear blue eyes of his friend and charge, for he and the other 8 elves that rode with the prince were more then companions, they were his guard. They would gladly protect him with their lives – and that is why they had been chosen.
And of course the prince was right. Just as he usually was.
Reaching out the blond warrior gently stroked the velvet nose in front of him, “Sorry mellon-nim, my ire is of no disgrace except my own and it should not have to be born by one as noble as you. “ The horse nickered softly and butted against him letting him known that all was forgiven.
Legolas smiled as he stroked the arched neck of his own beloved horse, Nim’loki, and whispered something to him before reaching into his pack and pulling out some garments – his friend’s clothes were soaked and it would be uncomfortable to ride in such a state. The horse tossed his head and nudged the prince affectionately.
“Here”, he said offering the garments and Rauri recoiled as if offered a snake instead of the fine green velvet and leather tunic and leggings that the prince held.
“No your highness, I cannot except this. These are your ceremonial garments…I could not”, the other elves around him were equally shocked although they all knew that their prince had a gentle and kind heart – even if he were a lethal warrior.
Legolas frowned looking down at the clothes still in his hand, “I am sorry son of Recgozi, I did not realize that the robes of a Mirkwood royal were not good enough for you. I apologize your eminence.” Legolas mocked and the other elves around them laughed. It took Rauri a moment before he realized that Legolas didn’t mean anything by it but was trying to convince him that being dry was more important then to whom the clothes belonged.
“Besides, “Rauri’s brother Raidruch laughed, “you could act as the official royal decoy incase the horrendous beasts of Rivendell arise and try and devour our liege!”
“Ha ha always the funny one”, Rauri growled although he did concede to Legolas’s common sense and quickly dawned the dry clothes before gracefully mounting his horse once again.
They continued on for another league before the prince could take it no longer, “Peace sons of Recgozi“, the brothers had continued baiting each other and Legolas’s nerves were getting a bit more frayed then he would admit as he passed under the trees of Rivendell, “We offend these gentle trees with our noise. I fear Lord Elrond will grow old waiting for us as your voices will alert him too early of our arrival.”
Again another twinge of discomfort in his shoulder made his unconsciously rub it as both Rauri and Raidruch blushed slightly under Legolas’s chiding. The prince was right. They were not behaving as elves should and they apologized to him, “Sorry your highness. We will be better restrained…is your shoulder injured?” The brothers had noticed the way the prince occasionally rubbed it and worried that something had happened that they were unaware of.
One of the elves in particular, the senior among them, narrowed his gaze in suspicion as he couldn’t help but notice the action as well. However, unlike the youngsters who traveled with him, Methos, head of the royal guard, did not think it was pain from a new injury.
As they spoke they rode into a small clearing and the prince stopped suddenly as he heard the trees around him whispering something… but it was so quiet that his companions did not hear it.
“Your highness… are you all right?” Rauri repeated as he saw a strange look cross his friend’s face. The young warrior immediately reached for his bow as his eyes scanned the clearing for any threat. Around him, the rest of the prince’s friends also went from ‘friend’ to ‘protector’ as they prepared for trouble.
But the Prince of Mirkwood was oblivious to what was going on around him as he strained to hear what the trees were whispering. It was about an old pain…a familiar pain…. one they shared.
In one fluid movement, Legolas slid from his horse and knelt down on the soft forest floor, his hands gently running along the ground as if searching for something.
“Prince Legolas?” It was Raidruch’s voice this time, but still Legolas was lost to him. Methos hushed them. He had been here before and his own dark memories of this place where vivid enough to make him uneasy. He would explain it shortly, if they hadn’t figured it out by then. But for now, they would respect the homage their charge would pay for this was the very spot where almost a thousand years ago, a very young prince of Mirkwood and his mother had been attacked by creatures
An understanding fell over the elves as they saw silent tears track down the royal face. And although they knew they should turn away, they couldn’t. They were transfixed by his quiet grief as he traveled back in time to this very spot, and became a child again.
Soundlessly, Methos slipped from his mount to stand behind the kneeling prince in reverie of his own grief and failure. He blamed himself for the Queen’s death and the near loss of this prince as he felt he should have been able to save them…even if the events told different.
He was head of the Royal Guard – he should have been able to do something! Thranduil never blamed him and thought so much of this elf that he placed him once again in charge of his envoy through Rivendell. And as he stood behind the grieving youngster, he once again pledged that nothing like that would ever happen again.
“Ata”, Legolas’ voice was so soft and so filled with pain it broke even the seasoned warrior to hear it. It was not the voice of their prince but of a small child calling for their mother once again.
Ata.
The trees around them ached to console the broken heart as they saw the elfling they once knew as the grown elf that wept with them now.
Utinu…son. The trees whispered back. And in the whisper of their trembling leaves, Legolas could hear his mother’s voice.
Aminmela lle…I love you.
How long he knelt in that clearing was not important. Time was something that elves had plenty of and in respect to him, they waited in silent vigil for as long as he needed. And when he was ready to leave, they left as quiet as time itself.
They understood.
* * *
The rangers watched the quietly moving group of elves as they soundlessly wove their way through the trees. Most of the elves were dark haired and wore the traditional brown and green warrior tunics of the wood-elves of Mirkwood. It was just as they were told it would be.
One of the rangers, a big man with hard brown eyes gave a quick hand signal and his men got ready.
The elves would be in place in just a few moments. His eyes quickly picked out three blond heads out of the 10 elves and he knew that only one was the one they needed. His eyes paused momentarily on the one who wore the finery of a prince but then a slender hand grabbed his arm and he heard the voice in his ear, “The young warrior in the back. That is him”.
He nodded silently and made another hand signal to his men even as the dark elf beside him disappeared into the foliage. Damn elves are like ghosts, he thought to himself even as he got ready.
Getting to his feet, the man called Scarab yelled out “YIELD…PRINCE OF MIRKWOOD!” And then all hell broke loose.
* * *
As they rode out the gate at an alarming pace, Elladan finally brought Aragorn up to speed. The riderless horse was from Mirkwood. The prince and his escort were under attack.
Aragorn shook his head as he urged his own horse to go faster as the gray stallion was easily out distancing them driven by worry for its elf.
What was going on was beyond him – Rivendell was safe…what was happening?
* * *
9 elves lay dead but there was no clue as to who or what had attacked them. Each body was pierced with arrows laced with quick acting poison.
Elladan knelt briefly beside the one that he recognized and his heart twisted in ironic agony – it was Methos, the faithful head of the Royal Guard. After barely surviving his last encounter in the fair Rivendell forest, the Halls of Mandos had claimed him on the next trip. The noble elf was dead…his pledges forever lost in the silence of his passing.
“Where’s the prince?” Aragorn asked as he stood beside his brother briefly before stepping around the fallen warrior searching vainly for any survivors.
“ADA!” the anguished cry brought him stumbling towards where Elrohir was kneeling. In front of him was a blond haired elf wearing the clothes of a noble. The dead prince.
Aragorn felt his throat seize up. The king had trusted his father finally after a 1000 years and this time the prince didn’t even make it to Imladris!
Elrond quickly knelt down beside the still elf and gently pushed the hair away from his fair face as he lowered his head sadly, “Oh Legolas”. And then he looked down into the fair face and his brow wrinkled in confusion.
“What’s wrong?” Aragorn asked as he heard Elladan come up behind him and before Elrond could say anything Elladan spoke, “That’s not Legolas.”
It was only then that Elrohir pushed past the dread that had overcome him when he saw the prince’s finery and he took a closer look at the face and let out a sigh even as his father said, “No it is not.”
“You’re sure?” Aragorn dared ask but now all three were nodding in confirmation.
“Yeah, while this warrior is fair, he is not Selestriel and Thranduil’s son Legolas. Even as the child I have only known him, he was considered fair… even among his own. This is not Legolas.”
“Then where is he?” the dreaded question hung over them all.
* * *
Legolas groaned softly as he slowly regained consciousness. Opening his eyes, he was surprised to find that it was dark and he moved his head painfully to try and get a better look at his surroundings. But it was difficult to do as he securely chained against a wall.
“Well your highness, sorry about the accommodations but they are the best we can afford you right now”, a voice sneered at the young elf. The room was dim but he did not need any light to see the contempt that he was held with and it unnerved him. He had never seen such malice towards him before particularly as he had no idea who these people were.
The only thing he did know was they were men and that was enough to unnerve him as he had been told that men were suspicious of anyone that was different then there own. This had been drilled into him since he was an elfling.
Men were dangerous and his father and protectors had taught him to be wary.
“I am a warrior”, the young prince said quietly. He would not admit to his blood as he had no idea what that information might be used for.
The man scoffed loudly as stepped close to the prince and glared into his face. Legolas did not even twitch or attempt to pull away. He would not let him see fear even as his insides twisted and he felt sick at his presence. In the back of his mind he could not help but remember that it was beneath these very skies his mother had lost her life in Rivendell and he was now strongly regretting convincing his father to let him attend Arwen’s ceremony…but he could not dwell on that right now as the man was now speaking to him again, “You are Legolas, heir of Thranduil, prince of Mirkwood,”
Legolas shook his head, “No…I’m..” his words were cut off as the big man backhanded him and then grabbing the prince’s hair he pulled his head back so that Legolas was forced to look up into his face as he continued, “You are the prince my pet…you have been shown to me. Given to me if you will.”
“Shown?” it took all his strength to keep his voice even as he refused to show this man how much fear he had in him right now. This man was evil and he felt it grip his heart in a black fist and squeeze. And there was something more…something worst. The evil that permeated around this man was familiar to Legolas although he could not place it.
The man stared hard into the defiant blue eyes that glared back at him but never answered him. This elf was strong… he could feel it.
While still holding Legolas’s head back, he reached up and gently caressed his face and the prince was unable to control the shudder at his touch. Amused, the man released him as they heard someone else coming down into the small cellar.
“Now Scarab”, the new man addressed the elf’s tormentor, “remember he is to be shared.”
Scarab grinned and stepped back as he swept his arms towards the captive, “Of course my friend. But Guler, even you have to admit it…our new play toy is very pretty…isn’t he?”
Guler appraised Legolas darkly before nodding, “He’ll do.” Grabbing a stool, he sat down and pulled out a pipe, which he lit and inhaled deeply, his dark eyes never once leaving the elf.
Scarab waited until the guard was settled before taking his leave, “Try not to miss me to much my pet, I’ll be back before bedtime to tuck you in…and maybe even read you a bedtime story.” Legolas blanched but didn’t say nothing.
Scarab’s happy humming could be heard by the elf’s keen ears even after the horrid man had gone.
“Be warned little elf, “ Guler said after Scarab had left, “There are some fates worst then death. Cross that one, “ his eyes indicated the direction that the other had gone, “and you will know the depravity of man. Cooperate…and you will only know his hunger. Trust me. The latter is better…for the both of us.”
Legolas’s heart grew cold at the undisguised threat although he had no idea what Guler was warning him about and he heard his father’s voice as he closed his eyes wearily…Legolas, Rivendell is not safe. It was not safe a thousand years ago and it is not safe now…and then opened them up and forced himself to look back at the man who was watching him, “I have no desire to know either.”
Guler laughed at the gumption of the elf, “Well then it’s a good thing that you’re having no say in this then…isn’t it?”
Legolas closed his eyes and turned his face away from the man.
It was true…Rivendell was not safe.
* * *
Aragorn stood beside his father as the older elf surveyed the carnage in silent rage and disbelief. Elrond could not believe this was happening…again. Another brutal attack on the royal family of Mirkwood…. in his forests.
The man was still looking at the royal attire of the dead warrior, “Why was he wearing the prince’s clothes? A decoy?”
Elladan was also standing beside him and shrugged, “I don’t know. Possibly. It is not unknown for royals to travel in disguise…but…” his indecision was cut off as Elrohir came running lightly back with some wet clothes in his hands.
“I don’t think this elf was in disguise.”
Elrond saw the wet clothing and then knelt down beside the dead elf and gently laid his hand on his hair confirming his suspicion. Standing up he spoke slowly as his wise gaze swept the woods once again for any sign of his missing charge, “The prince gave his escort some dry clothes to wear. His hair is still damp.”
“His royal clothes? Why not something less…well…” Aragorn didn’t have the word and Elladan smiled fondly as he thought about his young friend, “That is Legolas. If someone needed dry clothes, he would offer his own – regardless of whether they were his finest or not. Besides, “ Elladan indicated the fine velvets and leather that the dead elf wore, “Legolas would not travel dressed in such finery. He had brought them for Arwen’s ceremony.”
Elrohir nodded in affirmation thinking back about the blond elf, “Although a prince, he never did anything that would single himself out. He dressed as his friends did. To a casual observer he would appear as just another warrior.”
“Unless you watched him”, Elladan added quietly before turning back to Elrond, “who did this? It is not orcs of that I am sure.” His hands indicated the woods around them, “there are no dead accept elves.”
“I know my son”, Elrond said gravely.
Aragorn knelt down as he looked for tracks but there alarmingly none that he could find, “They were attacked without killing a single one of their attackers? What kind of enemy is this?”
“Nay, there must have been dead”, Elladan said refusing the believe these elves went down without taking a single aggressor with them, “but the dead have been taken. This is a royal escort. The king would have sent his finest with his son.”
“To Rivendell?” Aragorn was still skeptical, “Why would he need to send his finest when only a cursory escort would be needed into our fair realm?”
Three sets of elven eyes turned to the human but it was Lord Elrond who spoke, “because King Thranduil does not believe Rivendell to be safe. And after this most recent event, I am beginning to wonder myself. What lurks in these words is beyond me to see but it has twice now struck ill intend on our guests. No Thranduil would have sent his very best with the prince. Even to Imladris. We need to find Legolas. I will not see him harmed while there is still life in me.”
As one, they silently moved into the woods – there had to be some sign.
* * *
2 Weeks Later:
For the next two weeks the Noldor elves searched the countryside for any sign of the missing royal.
There was only one small pub in the center of town so that was the first place Aragorn headed to. Sitting down at a table in back, he ordered ale and glanced around at the other patrons. It was a smoky, crowded place even at this time of day, attesting to the favorite pastime in Avonarret.
His attention was drawn to three men who were seated at the table across from him. Rangers by their own account, they were loud, braggarts who harassed the poor barmaids. The biggest of the three, caught Aragorn’s gaze and beckoned to him, “Come ranger, sit with us. We are kin.”
Yes as orcs are my kin, Aragorn thought before plastering a disinterested look on his face and moving over, “I had no idea my kin were so loud.” His obvious distaste of them made the big man laugh and look at the other two with him.
In all truth, it was the two with him that were causing the commotion while he himself merely watched and kept them in line when it seemed they might get out of hand. He grinned at Aragorn and stuck out his hand, “Name’s Scarab. Yes, the boys are just unwinding, we’ve been in the woods for a long time now.”
Aragorn grimaced at the strength of the man’s grip as he lightly shook it and managed to control his urge to wipe his hand after shaking this repulsive man’s.
“Strider”, was all he offered and to this surprise the man named Scarab seemed to recognize the name.
“Well I’ll be. So you’re the famous Strider, “ he laughed as he easily read the look of surprise on the other man’s face, “Don’t look so surprised young friend. Rangers through all the areas have tracked your rising star. Although I will admit, you’re a shade younger then I thought. Oh well, experience treads where age can’t.”
Aragorn nodded and hid his amusement behind a sip of the yellow ale. He had almost laughed to hear words that should come from an elf, come from this nauseating man. The young ranger couldn’t actually figure out why he felt so much animosity towards this man or the two with him. But something about them made him very wary.
And as he wiped a dribble of the ale from his chin, his eyes narrowed for a split second as an odor wafted into his sensitive nose from the hand he had just shaken with Scarab. Hiding his suspicion, he pretended to scratch an itch on his nose and he recognized the scent immediately.
Amidst the sweat, dirt and horses, there was the lingering sweet smell of blood. Elf blood.
Keeping his voice steady he glanced at Scarab’s hands and noticed that there
was indeed bloodstains on them, he commented offhandedly, “You must have seen
action for you’ve blood on your hands.”
Scarab glanced down and then made light of it, “Orcs, stinking filthy creatures. But they bleed and I do not so it was a good day for me.”
The other two men laughed and Aragorn joined in although his suspicions were
now confirmed. This man was lying to him about the blood – that was no orc
blood. It was elven and he was pretty sure which elf it belonged to. Now all
he had to do was try and find out where these men camped or what they might
have done with the prince.
Testing the water, he ventured nonchalantly, “I myself find Elves to be a more voracious prey then orcs.”
Silence fell over the table before Scarab said quietly, “Rangers don’t hunt elves my friend, they are expensive quarry…or so I have been told.” The big man’s eyes clouded over briefly as he watched the young ranger cautiously.
Aragorn had expected such a response and brushed it off, “Yes expensive but not unaffordable.”
The two men with Scarab eyed Aragorn suspiciously and then turned to their leader to see what he was going to do.
Scarab stared at Aragorn for a few moments but the younger ranger did not back down. Finally after a few tense moments, Scarab slapped the other man across his back and said with a laugh, “not unaffordable…I have to remember that. But take care my friend, not all rangers would agree with you on that. And they are what can make the price unattractive.”
“Empathy gets in the way too often of what needs to be done”, Aragorn said vaguely hoping to get more information from these men.
Scarab finished his drink and stood up, “True young Strider but I am a man who always gets done what needs to be.”
“And so am I”, Aragorn said with honest conviction and then he turned the conversation back a bit, “Orcs you say? I am on a similar quest. I have heard of trouble in Rivendell area and am hoping to catch my quota…can you point me to where the game might be?”
“Point you or guide you?” Scarab asked, his dark eyes twinkling. He liked this ranger and had already heard of his skill. He would make a great asset to their cause, “You are welcome to join us. We belong to a larger contingent of rangers but an extra sword, especially one as good as yours is rumored to be, is always welcome. However, “ his voice held a warning and Aragorn found it hard to hold his gaze as he read the lethalness in it, “we are rangers who do what must be done…at all costs.”
Aragorn nodded and said firmly, “As am I. Let us go. I am anxious for the taste of the hunt.”
Scarab smiled and beckoned him to follow. He had a good feeling about this ranger.
* * *
Elladan and Elrohir saw Aragorn leave the pub with the three other men. They exchanged looks as they saw him mount his horse and start to follow. He glanced around once quickly and gave a slight signal, which both twins saw and interpreted immediately.
Without a word, they turned and rode for home.
* * *
As he rode with the rangers towards their camp, Scarab told Aragorn about a large group of orcs they were tracking and the younger ranger replied honestly, “How do you plan on besting them? A large group of orcs will be odds to great for even the four of us.”
Scarab threw back his head and laughed as if Aragorn had just said the funniest thing, “You have so much wisdom Strider…but your grounds are based on what you see and not what you know. I have a group of the best rangers in the entire realm – at least 50 of the most lethal men in Middle Earth. And….” His eyes glinted mischievously, “we have a secret weapon.”
“Secret weapon?” Aragorn echoed still getting over the shock of a band of 50 rangers operating so close to Imladris without his father’s knowledge… not to mention the large group of orcs. What darkness hid them from the Elf Lord’s sight?
“Oh yes, we have a secret weapon. If you are true to your own words and will not allow empathy to sway what needs to be done, then I think you will find the irony in my weapon only fitting, “ Scarab carefully chose his words and turned to gage the reaction of his new recruit, “An elf to fight orcs…poetic justice isn’t it?”
Aragorn was actually confused – what did Scarab mean? “I don’t think I’m following you. Elves fight orcs naturally – where is the poetry?”
The three men burst out laughing at his ignorance and Scarab grinned before turning in his seat and urging his horse to pick up the pace, “Not in the way we use them. You’ll see.”
A feeling of dread consumed Aragorn as he urged his own horse to keep up. What was this man planning to do?
* * *
Elrond was not pleased. Aragorn had left with three strange men – rangers obviously, without any word other then letting his brothers know he was all right and they needed to leave.
He stood and looked out over his fair realm. There was nothing he could do except wait. But it unsettled him to no end that now he had two charges that were missing in his woods.
* * *
Aragorn was shocked…abhorred…there was no word strong enough to properly depict just how it hurt his very soul when he saw the state of the elf Prince – and once he had seen the young elf he wondered how he had ever mistaken a warrior for this one.
Legolas, Greenleaf, heir of Mirkwood, was a proud regal creature and even the atrocity that he was now bound in could not erase this from him. Stripped to his waist, it was easy to see the strong, proud shoulders that were marred with bruises and lacerations, testifying to his rough treatment. High cheekbones set in a calm face belied whatever torment was running through him as his long blond hair was tangled and bloodied and he gazed at his new tormentor through dazed, but still somehow lucid, blue eyes of the color Aragorn had never seen before in a elf. They were clear and their color was borrowed from the most tranquil of skies. Looking in them seemed to draw the young ranger into their very depths.
Once they had made camp, Scarab bade him to go down to into the small guarded cellar to see his ‘secret weapon’. He wanted to know what the young ranger thought of his prized possession.
And although he thought he was prepared for any eventuality, nothing could have prepared the young ranger for the state he found the proud elf in.
Aragorn was outraged – how could anyone treat this fair creature in such a manner?