Disclaimer: I do not own any of the recognisable characters in this story, and make no money from them. This story is purely a work of fanfiction and written for fun. However, I do own the OC's, and I ask that you don't use them in your own writing without consulting me first.
Thanks to The Jade Raven of Rivendell, Whyamiobsessed, CoffeeRanger, gginsc, AudurilofTolkien, and Hawaiichick for reviewing Visit to Imladris!
This story was referenced by Thranduil in Ancestry, when he explained Legolas's abilities to Helegion. If you are new to my writings, I would highly recommend reading at least Ancestry before you read this, as things will make more sense that way.
For everyone else, I hope you enjoy this look at how stupid humans are. *hehe* Well, it would negate the whole point of this story if I had him smart...
Tales from Mirkwood: Public Relations
Takes place within the first millennium of the Third Age.
A quite rhythmic knocking on the door to his room had Thranduil look up frowning. He recognised that pattern of knocks.
"Come in."
The door opened, and a very pale Golwendir slipped in, closely followed by the other three. As soon as they were in the room, Garavon, who had been last in, closed and locked the door, even sliding the bolt across. He looked very worried, and remained hovering by the door as Golwendir all but collapsed into a chair, and hid his face in his hands. Legolas and Lothwen regarded them all with worry.
Thranduil abandoned the trade contract he was reading, and gave his children his full attention.
"What's wrong?"
Legolas answered him.
"Golwendir had a vision. I don't know what it is about, but he insisted we all come and see you immediately. Garavon is making sure no one sneaks up on us."
Thranduil looked at his second eldest son in concern. The vision would explain why he was so pale.
"What did you see, Golwendir?"
His son lifted his head at the question.
"There is going to be an attempt on our lives at the meeting you have planned with the humans tomorrow. I don't know who will do it, but they will target you, me, Lothwen and Legolas."
Thranduil's eyes went cold as his whole demeanour changed.
"Do you know if they succeed?"
Golwendir looked around at the others uneasily, before forcing himself to speak.
"I think they may killed Lothwen or Legolas. You and I just manage to escape with injuries, taking them with us. I saw your robes covered in blood, but don't know how bad."
"And Garavon?"
"He wasn't in the vision. I don't know."
Thranduil nodded slowly, processing all that information, as he looked around at the four children who had come with him. He half wished that he hadn't brought any of them after hearing that, but knew them not being here wouldn't stop anything from happening. Besides, they were all adults. Garavon was the youngest at six-hundred years of age, but he was still an experienced warrior. Less experienced at diplomacy though, which was why he was here. Thranduil hid a grimace at that thought. It had taken several centuries to convince Garavon to leave his beloved forest, and this incident wasn't going to endeavour him to leaving it again any time soon.
Golwendir was less than eight-hundred years younger than Thranduil himself was, and Legolas and Lothwen, though not even a century older than Garavon, were used to the perils that being royal brought with it. And had more experience dealing with outsiders, Thranduil thought wryly.
Lothwen, her formal attire making her look very grown up, was looking at him anxiously. While her clothing was mature, the look she was currently giving Thranduil reminded him of a lost child.
"Ada, what are we going to do? Can we just leave tonight and go back home?"
Thranduil sighed, rubbing his forehead, as he contemplated their options.
"Would that we could. But, we really need to settle this trade agreement first. It would help if we knew who was going to attack us. You don't have any idea who it is, Golwendir?"
The elf shook his head.
"No. I do, however, know it isn't the leader of this place. I remember he looked horrified when it happened. I suppose he could have orchestrated it, but I know he doesn't physically do it himself."
Thranduil nodded slowly, even as his mind worked quickly.
"That's helpful. If I meet him alone tonight to settle things, and we leave at first light tomorrow, we may be able to avoid this assassination attempt."
"What excuse will you give?"
Thranduil smiled at Garavon. For all that he was a mature adult, he just didn't have the life experience that they had. That was a large part of the reason Thranduil had wanted Garavon to come with them on this one. He'd thought this was going to be relatively easy trade negotiation, and therefore a good way for Garavon to gain more real-world experience.
Apparently, he'd been wrong in his assumptions.
"Easy. I will play into the stereotype that people tend to hold towards elves. I will be haughty, high-and-mighty, and demand what I want when I want it. Hence, I am tired of this place and wish to leave, so if the Master of this community wants a trade negotiation, he must consent to seeing me tonight and sorting everything out with no one else present."
Golwendir nodded at that; he looked much happier.
"That sounds like a plan. Would you like me to accompany you?"
Thranduil thought for a moment, before shaking his head.
"No, I'll do this alone. I would rather you all stay locked in this room, and not wander around without some of our guards, while we know there are people here who want us dead. You can invite some of them in here to play board games if you like."
"When will you go and see the Master?"
"As soon as I've finished reviewing this contract he wants me to sign. Most of it is okay, but there are a couple of clauses I am not agreeing to. Here's an idea. Garavon, we are finished talking now, you don't have to concentrate so hard to make sure there is no one about. Come over here and join us. I'll read the contract to you, and afterwards see if you can pick up on the parts I am not agreeing to. It'll be good practice."
The dark-haired prince left his post to join them, and it wasn't long before Thranduil was satisfied with how he wanted the contract to go. He knew the master would not like several of the changes, but that was just tough. Thranduil wanted them, and so he would get them. It was that, or not build up a trade agreement with this town at all. As attractive as that was to Thranduil right now, he knew that the humans wanted a share in his legendary wealth, and would not let that slip through their hands easily. Besides, the honey from this town was very good, especially mixed with fine wine on important occasions.
By this point, it was dark outside, though it was still early evening. Thranduil sent a messenger ahead to inform the master he was coming to settle their agreement tonight in private, and got ready to go out. However, before he reached the door, he hesitated and looked at his children. His eyes eventually landing on one of them.
"Legolas, would you come with me? While I hope everything will go well, I may be in need of your abilities to keep everyone calm. Nothing too drastic, but humans aren't the most reasonable creatures around."
The half-Silvan prince nodded and hurriedly donned his formal green robes over the simple, yet elegant, clothes he was already wearing. Father and son left the room together; and those left behind all breathed out and prayed to the Valar that the meeting would go well, and they would be out of here without incident in the morning.
They'd only been gone for a little while, before Golwendir's eyes glazed over, and he slumped forward onto the table. Lothwen and Garavon looked at each other in alarm, and anxiously waited for their brother to come back. They weren't worried about him, he would be fine; it was the result of his vision they were worried about.
By human standards, Golwendir was out for less than ten seconds. However, for the waiting elves, it seemed much longer. When his eyes finally cleared, Lothwen wasted no time.
"What did you see?"
Golwendir was already out of his chair, and grabbing his weapons, as he spoke urgently.
"Legolas and Ada are walking into a trap. Lothwen, go alert Feren to what's happening, and have him bring reinforcements. Arm yourself. Garavon, bow and arrows, with me. You must take out the rooftop archers. MOVE!"
Without wasting time asking questions, Lothwen grabbed her daggers and run from the room, calling frantically for the Captain of the Guard in the Silvan tongue. Her brothers were not far behind her, and started running in the direction Thranduil and Legolas had gone. Garavon had his bow at the ready, and Golwendir was armed with both a sword and twin long knives. As soon as they got outside, Garavon climbed onto the rooftops and started running across them, desperately searching for the archers. Not being as agile as his half-Silvan brother, Golwendir stayed abreast of him on the ground. They knew where the Master of the town had his house, and headed towards that.
When they arrived at the right house, Garavon instantly realised that something was very wrong. There should not be that many archers on the roof, and they were looking both outwards and inwards, towards the inner courtyards the veritable mansion had. Wasting no time, the wood elf's hands and arms were a blur as he shot arrow after arrow, each one taking a guard out of the picture. He was so fast and accurate, that he'd taken down a fair number before the others realised anything was wrong. He was careful to give them wounds that would incapacitate their ability to shoot rather than kill them, and it wasn't long before one of them shouted a warning down into the courtyard. Unable to wait any longer, and noting that Garavon had disabled most of the guards on that part of the roof, Golwendir marched up to the gates and glared at the guards.
"Let me through before I take your head's off."
There were four guards. Three of them were clearly terrified by the armed elf and looking like they wanted to run away, but the fourth one looked the Sindar prince in the eye.
"We have orders not to let anyone through."
Golwendir's eyes were like bits of ice; cold and unemotional.
"Fine. Take your head off it is."
Golwendir drew his sword in synchronisation with the guard. However, before they could do anything else, all four guards suddenly screamed, and collapsed into convulsive heaps on the ground before going deathly still. Golwendir blinked, so a taken back that it took him a while to realised that Garavon had joined him, and was checking the guard's necks for a pulse.
"They are alive, just unconscious. What did you do Golwendir?"
The Sindar shook his head.
"I did nothing except draw my sword."
Before they got any further, Lothwen, Feren, and the other guards caught up to them. All of them stopped and stared at the unconscious human guards. Lothwen spoke first.
"What happened? Where are Ada and Legolas?"
Her words unfroze them, and the siblings all run into the courtyard, their guards right behind them. A very disturbing sight met their eyes.
Thranduil was crouched in the middle, cradling an unconscious Legolas in his arms. Around them lay many more unconscious guards. The Master of the town was laying across from them, also out cold. Golwendir looked at his father in panic.
"Ada? What happened? What's wrong with Legolas? Are you hurt?"
Thranduil looked up. He didn't seem surprised to see them.
"He exerted too much energy, and blacked out. He will be fine, neither of us are hurt, but we are leaving this town tonight, trade agreement be damned. I just need this weasel to wake up so I can leave him with a suitable parting threat."
Thranduil glared very pointedly at the limp body of the Master. Without a word, Lothwen walked over to a nearby table, and picked up a jug that was sitting there. It held some sort of liquid, and the beads of moisture on the side told the elf that whatever it contained was cold, and so should do the trick. She then proceeded to dump the contents, which happened to be chilled wine, over the Master's head.
It was a very effective wake-up tool. Within seconds, he was spluttering and regaining consciousness. When his eyes finally opened, the first thing he saw was Thranduil standing over him, having passed Legolas off to Golwendir to carry, sword in hand.
The weasel squeaked in terror, and tried to scramble backwards. This caused him to bump into Lothwen's legs. Looking up, he was met by the sight of her casually spinning her twin daggers inches from his face, and looking at him with an apathetic expression.
Realising he was trapped by the elves, the coward tried to make excuses.
"Lemme go! I ain't done nothing!"
Thranduil cocked his head, the light from one of the lamps glinting off his sword.
"Really? From how I see it, you just tried to have us killed."
"It wasn't me! I swear! He made me do it!"
Lothwen suddenly stuck the toe of her boot into his lower back, causing the human to yelp and visibly jump. He'd been so focussed on Thranduil and his sword, that he'd forgotten the armed ellith standing behind him.
"Who made you do it?"
Lothwen's green eyes did not have the same chilling effect as her father's and older brothers blue-grey ones did, but they could still be void of emotion to the point of being terrifying. She was currently pulling that look, and, stuck between two glaring elves and surrounded by an army of many more, the Master crumbled like a dry leaf being stepped on.
"Roberto, Master of Barcombe! He's my cousin, and hates you all since his mother was killed by elves! I rely on him for most of my supplies, and he threatened to cut me off if I didn't do what he wanted! I had no choice!"
"'I had no choice', is never an answer. You always have a choice, but not all of them are always good ones."
Thranduil glared at the cowering human in disguise.
"We will be leaving now, I think. We have finished all our business here, and I have things that are actually important to attend to back home. Just one question. Why does your cousin believe his mother was killed by elves? We do not go around attacking humans. In fact, we rarely leave our forest."
The Master cowered even further, even as he mumbled into the front of his richly embroidered tunic.
"She was old, and not quite right in the mind. One day, she wandered into the forest, and was never seen again. Roberto blamed it on elves, and has harboured a hatred against you ever since."
"So, he doesn't actually have any proof that elves were responsible for her disappearance?"
Garavon stepped up and glared at the man as he asked the question. The master sighed heavily and dropped his head.
"No. But my cousin knows you live in the forest, and so blames you for her certain death."
Golwendir snorted.
"More likely she was taken by the orcs or spiders. We aren't the only creatures living in the forest, and are far from the most unfriendly."
The Master slumped down even more.
"I'm just telling you what my cousin thinks. Me, I would rather stay out of it."
Thranduil glared.
"Why didn't you?"
The pitiful human cowered ever further into himself, and did not answer. Thranduil rolled his eyes and turned towards Feren, who'd watched everything with an expression of shock and confusion.
"Feren. Take a few soldiers and raid this weasels pantry to provide us with supplies for the road. Judged by his girth, it won't hurt him."
The Master sat up with a panicked look at the thought of them taking his food.
"You can't do that!"
Thranduil gave him a look that froze him in place.
"Says who? You are not in any position to be making any demands right now. Keep going, and you'll never make any demands again."
Thranduil casually swung his sword as he spoke, and the human took the hint and shut up. It didn't take long before the group returned with enough food to easily feed their whole company on the return trip to Mirkwood. Seeing the food, the Master deflated, but wisely kept his mouth shut. Thranduil was still holding his sword rather close to his throat after all.
Deciding there wasn't much point in staying here any longer, Thranduil straightened up, dramatically turned on his heels, and marched off, sheathing his sword in one smooth motion as he turned. The other elves were quick to follow him; Golwendir still gently cradling the body of an unconscious Legolas. When Lothwen moved, the Master's head collided with the ground rather harshly, resulting in a rather loud 'crack'. He'd subconsciously been leaning against her legs. Groaning, the man clutched his head feebly, but none of the elves gave him any more thought. He wasn't worth it. They were all safe, and ready to leave this town tonight. Though Golwendir, Lothwen and Garavon were all very worried about Legolas, and as soon as they were back in Thranduil's room, demanded to know what had happened to him.
Thranduil sighed wearily as he sat on the edge of the bed, and gently tucked a stray strand of Legolas's blond hair behind his ear. He did not take his eyes off his unconscious son, even as he began speaking to his other children.
"I do not know precisely what happened; I can only hazard a guess based on what I saw and felt. As far as I can tell, when thing started getting cagey, Legolas tried to keep everyone calm. Initially it seemed to work, but then the guards on the roof started shooting at us. I had had the forethought to put a shield up around us before we went in there, and while it's not foolproof, the illusion was enough to fool the guards into missing. I did not know what I would do when everyone around me suddenly screamed, clutched at their heads, and fell down unconscious. Moments later, Legolas also lost consciousness. I caught him before he hit the ground, and ascertained he had no physical injury. That was when you arrived."
Lothwen was sitting on the other side of the bed, holding one of her brother's hands, even as she frowned at her father.
"That does not really explain what happened, Ada."
Thranduil nodded in agreement.
"It does not. As I said, I'm not entirely sure what happened, but I suspect that Legolas's powers are potentially more extreme then we realised. To the point of being able to cause everyone around him to black-out from the force of the emotions he projected. I can only hope he is unconscious because of that, like how I need lets of rest after expanding large amounts of energy in healing."
The gathered Royals looked thoughtful as they processed what Thranduil said. If it were true, which was quite likely, then their brother's abilities were on a par with their father's own. Golwendir, especially, was familiar with just how powerful Thranduil was. He'd once watched his father bring his older brother back to life after all.
Garavon was thinking of something else.
"How come you weren't affected? Or Golwendir and me? We were outside near the guards who were affected, but didn't feel a thing. More to the point, I didn't feel a thing."
Now Thranduil looked very thoughtful.
"I actually have no idea why we weren't affected. Maybe this ability only works on humans or mortals? Maybe, being related, we are immune? It has happened this way before, and anything is likely. But we are all alive and unharmed, and right now, I just want to put as much distance between us and this place as possible. Go and pack; Garavon, can you see to Legolas's things? I'll stay here with him until you return. He can ride with me. Feren is already marshalling the others and preparing the horses, so we should be ready to leave very soon."
His children left to do as bided, and Thranduil was soon left alone with Legolas. After packing up his own few things, the King sat on the bed next to his son, and watched the slow rise and fall of his chest as he slept. All his children, and even his grandchildren, had inherited his mother's ethereal beauty. It wasn't always obvious, but it was undeniably there, and would make an appearance when it was least expected. Like now. Right now, Legolas looked as beautiful as Thingols's daughter Luthien, who had also had Maia ancestry, and was said to have been the most beautiful elf who ever lived.
Thranduil begged to differ, but couldn't very well voice his objections too loud. His ancestry was, by necessity, a closely guarded secret that only a few knew. His children and grandchildren knew the full story, as did their spouses, and of course Tathardis knew. And Elrond, Thranduil remembered, though he wasn't aware of the full extent of the matter.
Looking back at Legolas sleeping so peacefully, Thranduil thought, for a brief moment, that he was looking at his own mother. Then the moment passed, leaving an empty feeling in its wake. Thranduil smiled wistfully as he held his son's hand, and gazed out the window at the stars that they would soon be riding away under.
It seemed that, millennia after her death, his mother was still making her presence felt, and protecting them all at the same time.
Just like she'd promised to do back in the Second Age.
Preview of next week's story: Ada Adaenin
Thranduil stood just inside the door to the throne room, stared at his father in shock. Or rather, he stared at his young missing son curled up asleep in his grandfather's arms, as said grandfather sat comfortably on his throne. Oropher gazed right back at him, and said in a mild tone.
"Is something wrong, Thranduil?"
Hope to see you all then, and don't forget to leave a review and let me know what you thought of this story!