A/N: This is a sequel to my other story "The Necklace of Lasgalen," and will probably not make sense unless you read that first. :)
This story brings us forward to the beginning of the War of the Ring. I ask that you kindly point out any mistakes, as this is unbeta'd and I am no Tolkien expert though I try very hard to balance book/movie/canon/characterization with the fun of writing fanfic. Thanks for all the love on "Necklace," and I hope you enjoy this sequel.
"Halt! Who seeks passage into the halls of King Thranduil of the Woodland realm?" The armored guard boomed at the approaching party. His fellow guards snapped to attention, bow and arrow at the ready.
There were three figures spotted across the narrow stone bridge that led to the Western Gate of the Elvenking's halls in Mirkwood. They were indistinguishable through the early morning mist except for the one who looked to be a child or an elderly person. It made for an unsettling sight.
Two of the strangers stopped halfway across the bridge. Pitiful wails were audible to the elf guards' sharp ears. It seemed the hunched figure was the source of the noise. One of the strangers continued walking the rest of the way despite the soldier's repeated warning to halt and reveal his identity. He stepped through the mist to show himself.
"I am Legolas, son of Thranduil, and I return to my father's house to deliver a prisoner."
The guard's eyes widened in realization and called for the gates to be opened to admit the prince and his fellow travelers. Legolas beckoned to them to come forward and waited until they drew near. The guards soon saw that the shrieking creature stumbling with every other step was no child, man or elf. They recoiled as it passed for it wore only a loincloth and reeked of festering wounds and decay. It threw itself to the ground and gripped one of the guard's boots with unlikely strength. Its keeper, a dark-haired man with stern grey eyes, nudged it away and hauled it up roughly.
"We will take him to my father after he has been cleaned and fed."
"No—we must take him at once. Mithrandir was adamant." The dark-haired ranger uttered.
At that, the hideous creature known as Gollum emitted another pain-filled cry that echoed off the high ceilings of the underground fortress. Legolas frowned down at Gollum, nodded and led them to his father's throne, sending one of the standing guards to wake the king.
Thranduil was appalled by the unsightliness of the creature Gollum though greatly heartened by the appearance of his son. He greeted Aragorn as a welcome guest and learned how he and his son came to encounter Gollum. Aragorn, along with Mithrandir and Legolas, tracked the creature and captured it in the Dead Marshes, the mention of which set the king on edge.
On the grey wizard's orders, the miserable thing was entrusted to the Elvenking's watch. Thranduil was deeply irritated by the imposition even if it resulted from his son's recommendation of his father's power. He was aware that Legolas could see the rise of his ire. Thranduil clenched his jaw and agreed nonetheless, it was far too dangerous to have the creature running amok. If Thranduil has managed to keep his kingdom relatively safe for this long without the use of any of the rings of power, he could certainly manage the imprisonment of one treacherous former Halfling.
Gollum was monitored closely by the most elite of the palace guards. His wounds inflicted by the torture of Sauron's orcs were treated by Elven healers and though he recovered, one would be hard pressed to see any difference. It frequently spoke to itself as well as its captors, alternating between heart-rending pleas for freedom and vicious threats. It was as if two people resided within its grotesque body. The guards pitied it when it wept for freedom but hardened their hearts when they remembered that Gollum was a physical representation of Sauron's corrupting influence.
Legolas spent long hours with his father over the next few days. He told him of all that he'd seen and learned among the Rangers of the North and Thranduil could see his son benefited from his time outside Mirkwood's boundaries. His perspective was broadened by the opportunity to see how Men lived, though the king regretted the role his son would inevitably play in the war to come.
"Sixty years have passed since this realm last went to war, father, and we shall soon be under the same threat." The prince said.
"No." Thranduil said. Legolas frowned at him inquisitively. "The violence and destruction to come will not be like anything you have ever seen in your lifetime, my son. I will not lie to you on this. The war will ravage this world such that even the victors will fall to their knees when they witness the cost of that victory."
"We will help rebuild, then. It shall be painful and arduous but we will do it. The Dark one would let Middle Earth rot and glory in it." remarked Legolas. Thranduil was gravely pleased at his son's understanding of the situation—he did not romanticize the notion of winning wars.
They rode together accompanied by a band of guards, the king on his elk and Legolas on a spirited chestnut gelding. Father and son were perhaps a mile into the wood, not far from the keep. They would go no further for the Greenwood of old was no more—their realm was sadly known to the rest of Middle Earth as Mirkwood. The sinister gloom of the forest warded off outsiders and oppressed its Elven occupants.
The king's stormy expression belied his fear of what the future held. He looked sidelong at Legolas and saw the same grimness in his young face.
"I have made provisions for the defense of our people. I have yet to make arrangements for any preemptive strikes, should our allies ride to war and call upon our forces."
"Your council and generals, they are informed as well? They must be warned of the evil we are now host to."
"Yes, they were summoned to council at dawn. I will have no secrets from those who are entrusted with this kingdom's defense. We shall endure, in spite of Sauron's best efforts." The Elvenking spurred his mount onward into a rolling, elegant canter. Legolas followed, cognizant that where his father said "we" he once meant their people alone. Now, he knew his father meant it far more inclusively.
They returned to the Keep in silence save for the heavy breathing of their mounts. When Thranduil and Legolas were safely inside the palace, the guards were dismissed to their posts.
The king retreated to his quarters with a nod to his son, who immediately sought to explore the halls of this place he knew so well. Sixty years was a negligible amount of time to an elf. Yet as he roamed the common dining halls, the training yard, the Hall of Swords, and all of the places he once frequented as a youth, he was filled with longing for simpler times.
In the corridor that joined the main portion of the Keep and the lower gardens, Legolas was returning from a walk when he heard a familiar and haunting voice choke out his name.
Legolas whipped around to see Tauriel before him, staring at him in disbelief. He grunted when she rushed to him and threw her arms around him. He returned her embrace, closing his eyes at his reunion with his old friend.
"It is so good to see you." He whispered into her hair.
Legolas pulled back to really look at her and saw tension in her eyes that harkened back to the cliffs at Ravenhill where he last left her sixty years ago. He wondered what her life since then was like and found that he longed to know.
"Walk with me, I am going to my archers to test the youngest ones. They might benefit from your insight." She said with a smile.
He gladly agreed and accompanied her, amazed to find her an effective commander of a considerable force. The firebrand Legolas knew was still there but it was contained by wisdom one can only gain through the trials of leadership. He saw her soldiers believed in her authority by their attention to her every instruction. He surmised their respect was hard-won.
After she dismissed her group, she told him it was her third out of five planned training rotations for the week. They roamed the caverns and talked at length as if they had not been separated by nearly a century. When they noticed the throngs of elves walking in the direction of the Great Hall, they seemed to realize the hour and that they ran the risk of being tardy to the prince's own celebratory feast. Thranduil wanted to mark his son's return even if it was uncertain how long he meant to remain in Mirkwood.
The banquet was laid out in the Great Hall in the center of the palace, so that all might partake of the festivities there. Though it was spring, venturing outdoors for merry-making was no longer safe or advisable. However, as Legolas glanced around, he thought this feast was just as joyous as it might have been otherwise.
Food was plentiful thanks to renewed trade with other realms and of course Elven wine flowed freely. Music played constantly throughout the evening and all danced except for his father, which was not unusual, and Aragorn. The ranger took in the Woodland elves with a smile that lightened his often impassive countenance. Legolas even joined in at one point, to the delight of many of the noblewomen and their daughters. He partnered a blushing maiden, brown of hair and lovely of face, whom he spoke with after the song concluded and all applauded the musicians.
"The tales of your deeds do not do you justice, Prince Legolas." The maiden said when he released her hand. He imagined the words might have sounded simpering had they come from anyone else, but from her they were genuinely meant.
"Your words are generous," He shook his head dismissively with a small smile, "I do not know your name, my lady."
The musicians took up their instruments once more, but this tune was a lilting ballad that did not disrupt the moment. They stood among the dancers, as tall reeds amongst a flowing river.
"I am Melethril, my lord. The lady Tauriel is like a mother to me; she has told me much of your valor and skill in battle."
He felt his eyebrows lift in surprise.
"I am honored to make your acquaintance." Legolas could think of nothing else to say. He was sure to offend if he inquired as to how Tauriel came to raise a daughter in the years he'd been away from Mirkwood.
"Likewise, my lord." Smiling, Melethril took a few steps back and made to weave her way through the swaying dancers. "If you'll be so kind to excuse me, my lord, I must take up the harp for this ballad. I've already tarried too long." With a delicate curtsey, she returned to the group of musicians to take her place and join in the next chorus of the song. He watched her cerulean silk skirts as they trailed behind her.
Legolas realized how foolish he looked still standing in the middle of the dancers. He made his way to the dais where his father was seated. Thranduil observed as Legolas surreptitiously glanced at the maiden he shared a dance with.
"She is Tauriel's daughter in all but blood." Thranduil murmured quietly. Legolas was startled by his father's words and felt his cheeks redden.
"I was unaware Tauriel married." Indeed, Tauriel had mentioned nothing of the kind during their discussion earlier. He studied the girl for any physical resemblance to his old friend. She plucked at the harp strings with such precision and the melody that flowed from her hands must surely have resembled the song of the Ainur.
His father seemed to misinterpret his silence; perhaps thought he was distressed to hear of Tauriel's marriage.
"She did not." Thranduil's response was suspiciously neutral. "Tauriel took Melethril as a ward and provided for her care and education after she was orphaned. Her music is written by her own hand and comes to life through her harp."
Legolas sensed there was more to this tale if his father came to know so much of it but he did not push. At that very moment, he saw Tauriel enter the hall. Her auburn hair fell loosely over her shoulders and glinted in the firelight of the nearest lantern. She'd changed into a gown of deep green satin that emphasized her slender lines and left her arms bare. He watched her closely and examined his own heart for any lingering ardor, finding nothing but the thrum of friendly affection. In a way, he was relieved.
As Legolas turned in his father's direction to serve him more wine from a gilded pitcher, he saw that he too watched Tauriel. For the most fleeting second, Legolas thought his eyes betrayed him. His friend made her way through the different groups of people that were scattered through the vast hall, her steps complemented by her rippling skirts.
Tauriel at last came forward, curtseying before the dais, and the motion was so strange to Legolas for he knew her as a soldier clad in shirt and breeches far better than this dignified Silvan beauty.
"My lord, I thank you for the invitation to this feast to celebrate the return of your son Prince Legolas." Tauriel said formally. It was customary for all in attendance to do so when they first arrived.
"You are most welcome here, commander." His father responded with similar formality.
Legolas gave her his own welcome, for appearance's sake, and descended from the dais again to partner his friend in the next dance. It was a jovial tune now and Melethril abandoned the harp for a flute. The swirl of his people all around them, stepping, leaping and turning in perfect time, was not enough to distract him from the feeling of his father observing him.
He eventually realized that he was not the object of his father's scrutiny. Instead, it the woman who danced at his side.
"I became acquainted with lady Melethril earlier this night, she is a credit to you." Legolas spoke without any shortness of breath while they broke apart and came together as the beating drums commanded them.
"Thank you. She is very dear to me." Tauriel seemed surprised at his speech.
"That I can see."
"She admires you greatly, you know. She made sure that her pieces would be featured during this particular celebration and even put aside her harp to be sure she could join in the dance when you did."
Again, the prince found himself grow warm in the cheeks. "I wonder who is responsible for filling her head with those tales."
She couldn't help but laugh fondly. "Who indeed?"
Legolas did not miss a beat and neither did she, they danced with the same precision with which they fought. Tauriel's long hair spun gracefully behind her, she might not be the greatest beauty in the Hall based purely on Elven ideals but Legolas still thought she was captivating.
"I cannot keep up with these changes. I return to find you a proper lady, mother, and formidable commander. Can this be the same daughter of the forest I once knew?"
Her gaze grew serious as she was drawn back to times long past and he then regretted his tone. Of course she'd known more sadness and fear than many, so he was deeply glad she seemed to have done well for herself since last he saw her. He wanted to take back his words. Then Tauriel looked at him again with something resembling contentment and he knew she'd come back from wherever her thoughts had taken her.
"Your father's guidance has much to do with it." She said when he took her hand to lead her into a spin.
Legolas almost did not catch her soft words above the resounding percussion that filled the hall. They continued the dance in silence, each choosing to focus on the steps and avoid colliding with others. Soon enough, the song came to its end and the dancers applauded again. He raised his hands to Melethril, who beamed at his recognition.
By the night's end, Aragorn bid him and his father farewell. He told them not for where he headed, only that he must not delay. Legolas instinctively knew it had to do with Gollum's captivity, and that Mithrandir had plans to set in motion. Plans within plans, Legolas thought wearily, all the while evil gathers its strength.
He retired to his former quarters, all of the observances of the evening fresh in his mind.
Since I'm not on vacation anymore and am working fulltime, updates will take long and most likely be unpredictable. However, I will do my best to produce quality chapters as quickly as I can. :) As always, I welcome all feedback.