This is my first LotR story ever and I hope you enjoy!
Summery: *King Elessar, I write to you in hopes you will answer Mirkwood's plea. A strange darkness has corrupted our forests once again. Orcs ravage her colonies and other foul creatures stalk her people. Many have already been lost. I beseech you Lord of Gondor, lend us her arms. We are a fading people yet we wish to fade into the West help us live for that chance. I will wait for your reply and hope it comes swiftly. King Legolas of Mirkwood.* Could you handle such a responsibility, especially if it is one you never wanted nor expected.
"Every man has his own
destiny: the only imperative is to follow it, to accept it, no matter where it
leads him."
-Henry Miller, The Wisdom of the Heart
Minas Tirith, the great city of Gondor, a splendor to all who gaze upon its towers and gates. In the times long before any living man can remember or even knew, it was a city of such beauty that some argue it surpassed even certain elven realms. The walls of the whitest stone un-hindered by age and war, towers standing tall and proud with banners of the white tree flapping in the cool breeze. Surely it was an astonishing sight to behold. However time and circumstance has left it dull and aged, yet it was still a place many men found joy and pride to call their own. Though the splendor of its glory days has come and gone Minas Tirith has been steadily rebuilt to possibly surpass its own history. The new gates that are built of stone and jewels from the glittering caves, a gift from Lord Gimli and his people, stands amid many of the improvements placed upon the city. This gate is what many notice when they first enter, most even stop to stare and marvel leaning over to there companion and telling tales of the dwarves who came to bestow such a wondrous gift upon Gondor. The gate was not the only gift given by the dwarves, the stones that lined the road to the great White tower and castle of Gondor was also presented to her people. A glittering path that seemed to hold many diamonds as it sparkled in the sun's warm light. Yet the pride of Gondor was the young sapling that grows in the center of the castle's square, its forefather long dead, removed and buried amid the honorable of Gondor. It's young limbs reached high into the sky as tiny white blossoms began to peek out after a long winters rest. However this traveler did not stop to marvel the gate, he did not stop to marvel the new tone path that lead to the threshold of the white towers, he did not stop to marvel upon the new sapling growing in the open castle square, he merely rode fast and rode hard, his mission clear and urgent. When he finally reached the gates he stopped fast and jumped from his horse swiftly handing the rains to an awaiting stable hand, his long blond hair swirling behind him as he dashed up the stairs. He was led through many halls, twisting and winding about until they reached a grand room at the end of which sat a man, a king, who leaned forward quickly, surprised, as the traveler rushed in.
"My lord," his voice echoed through the hall as he kneeled on one knee presenting the small scroll of paper he had carried with him for so long, "An urgent message from the King of Mirkwood." The king's eyes widened with curiosity as he leaned forward further and signaled the elf to rise. As the elf did so he spoke once more, yet there was a faint hint of urgency in his voice that unnerved the king greatly.
"Mirkwood is in dire need of Gondor's service, we have little time."
~~*~~*~~*~~
Aragorn stared at the elf, his mind troubled by his tone and words yet he couldn't help but wonder at the turn of events. The Elven King Thranduil of Mirkwood was renowned for his stubborn pride and dislike of any race not of the eldar, so what could possibly have happened to bring the Elf lord's principles and prejudices to be held at bay.
"If I may ask of you …" he paused not knowing the elf's name and gestured his hand accordingly.
"Avornodhel, my Lord."
"If I may ask you Avornodhel, is this situation so dire that Thranduil himself must ask for Gondor's aid?" The elf peered at him from dark green eyes that flashed an emotion had Aragorn not been among elves for most of his years he would have missed it…grief? The elf paused and then began choosing his words carefully.
"It is truly dire my lord but…my lord…it is not Thranduil who sent you this message."
"If you'll pardon but I am confused, did you not just say the message was from the King of Mirkwood…"
"I did my lord." Aragorn stared; he was now thoroughly bewildered so pressed on.
"Yet you also say that Thranduil did not send this message."
"Correct."
"Well which is it Avornodhel!" He did not mean to sound so curt, but the situation had surpassed his sight, which always left him uneasy. The messenger flinched at the king's quick tone, an unusual action for an elf, then continued.
"It is both my lord," Aragorn opened his mouth to speak but Avornodhel continued, "King Thranduil is no longer ruler of Mirkwood, he was slain in a battle among our boundaries many months ago." The elf paused watching the expressions upon the face of the king of men with interest. "His only son and heir now reigns and has asked for Gondor's aid in battle."
His only son and heir…"May I have the message Avornodhel," Aragorn held out his hand then firmly grasped the scroll ripping it from the elf's hand.
As he read he felt his heart grow heavy, yet it wasn't until he read the signature upon the scroll that he finally accept what he had feared.
King Elessar,
I write to you in hopes you will answer Mirkwood's plea. A strange darkness has corrupted our forests once again. Orcs ravage her colonies and other foul creatures stalk her people. Many have already been lost. I beseech you Lord of Gondor, lend us her arms. We are a fading people yet we wish to fade into the West help us live for that chance. I will wait for your reply and hope it comes swiftly.
King Legolas of Mirkwood
"Legolas…" the name passed from his lips as he let the paper slip from his fingers, he sat there for a long moment until the soft noise of a throat being cleared filtered into his conscious. He then remembered the elf that stood before him and quickly stood.
"Tell your King he will have Gondor's aid in all possible ways, I will leave myself for Mirkwood on the dawn of the morrow." Avornodhel smiled and nodded briskly, bowing, and then running hurriedly out the door to deliver his message to his king. Aragorn followed him with his eyes then quickly moved from his throne to begin preparations for his leave. As he made way to his chambers his heart ached for his friend, for he knew the prince's…king's loathe of his title.
"Such a heavy and unwanted burden has been placed upon you my friend, I hope you can bear it…" with that he entered his chambers his thoughts drifting over memories as he began his packing.
SVX: Okay this was the prologue Oi! I know it is short and a little oogy but please, please, please don't knock it till you've read some more. This story is dedicated to some of my favorite LotR authors who inspired me, Littlefish, Jocelyn, Ithilien, Thundera Tiger, Cassia and Sio, IceAngel, Elwe Singollo, Yours Truly, and Leap of Fate. I hope you all read this and enjoy because your stories helped inspire me! I also recommend every single one of their stories! I would love comments and critiques because this is my first time at LotR fan fiction and I want to do it right! I am not a Tolkien scholar so some things might be wrong while others I have just taken artistic license upon such as the street of dwarf stone. Anyway, hope I have gotten you intrigued and I am not sure when the next chapter will be out only that I promise it will be longer!
OC List (it will get longer)
Avornodhel (Literally: Fast deep elf) ~ Messenger elf from Mirkwood