SUMMARY : Telcontar, the ruling house of King Elessar, is being threatened by the Haradrims. The king of Gondor needs every help he can get to rectify the problem. But Legolas seems to have a problem of his own.
Hello, everyone! Yes, I'm back. And this time, with a post-LOTR. To tell you the truth, this is the hardest and most stressing fic I've ever done. Why? Because I got numerous writer's blocks while doing it! That's why it is so late to come out. Still, I hope you'll enjoy this one. Take note, though. I might not be updating as frequent as usual because I'm still having those writer's blocks while you are reading this.
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The seagulls were calling him.
As the strong zephyr blew through his long golden hair, the elven prince gazed up at the sky as the birds flew around above him, crying excitedly. His heart constricted painfully in terrible longing. He spread his arms wide apart, wishing that he could fly and follow the birds back to the sea.
Almost at once, he felt his feet lift off the earth. Then he was airborne, higher and higher towards the clouds. The seagulls were now surrounding him, gently pecking at his hair, nudging him to fly with them. He was more than eager to fulfill their wishes.
As the sun set in the horizon, the elf and the birds soared freely over the ocean, leaving the land far away behind them.
But then, the inevitable happened.
The seagulls vanished, leaving the elf entirely on his own in the air. He felt himself begin to plummet at incredible pace. Down…down…down he went—right into the blue-green water.
It took him a while to finally break the surface. Looking around him, he saw that he was truly alone with nothing else in sight saved for the endless sea. No signs of Middle-earth, and no signs of Valinor. As if to add more to his plight, thunder cracked in the sky right before the rain fell in heavy torrent.
The elf sobbed miserably, mourning his rotten fate. He had gotten nowhere in the end—trapped in the empty space between his past and his future, his life and his destiny, his nightmare and his dream.
The rain kept beating against his face as his tears fell unchecked…
Legolas blinked to awareness. He instantly realized that he was in bed in his chamber—not at sea, lost and alone.
What a dreadful dream, he thought as he slowly raised himself on his elbows. Brushing several strands of hair off his face, he was not overly surprised to find that both his cheeks were wet with tears. He had been crying in his sleep, which was common occurrence these days.
He wiped the tears in one angry move and left the bed, heading for the bowl of water that the servants had left on the table beside his dresser. Fighting the urge to dunk his head underwater and drown himself, he started his morning wash instead.
He then grabbed a clean towel and dried his face before walking towards the door that led to the balcony. The strong wind came blowing in as he opened the door, kissing the errant droplets of water on his naked chest and causing him to shiver slightly. And the seagulls, very much like the ones in his dreams, were soaring joyfully just beyond his reach. Their cries filled out the otherwise silent dawn, as if calling him to climb out and join them.
Legolas hardened his heart. He would not submit himself to the call. He would not let the affliction get the better of him and render him helpless. He would do everything he could to keep fighting it, no matter how hard it was. He loathed to be overwhelmed by it, losing all his sense and reason.
"Be gone," he growled to the birds. "Do not bother me anymore."
The seagulls hovered around him for several long moments before they flew off, heading for the sea that was actually not far, only several leagues away. He sighed heavily—both relieved and sorry to see the birds leave.
Gripping hard at the marble balustrade, Legolas thought of the year that had passed since the fall of Sauron. The Dark Lord had perished along with the One Ring, putting a stop to his powerful forces and dominance on Middle-earth. The orcs, the goblins and the other remaining fell creatures had fled and hid themselves away. Gondor had gradually flourished, as well as its surrounding lands.
The prince of Eryn Lasgalen—formerly known as Mirkwood—was now the Lord of Southern Ithilien, a faithful vassal to the House of Telcontar, the ruling house of King Elessar. Legolas smiled slightly as he thought of his best friend. Aragorn makes a fine king, he mused. Gondor had never seemed so glorious.
His smile faltered when something else hit his mind. Still, a glorious and powerful kingdom like Gondor cannot escape from having its own problems. It had been reported that the men of Harad whom had allied with Sauron during the War of The Ring had silently yet actively retaliated, creating havoc and trouble in the woods, towns and villages outside the White City of Minas Tirith.
The Haradrims had left their home in the barren desert to solely fill their hearts' content, plundering and killing at will. They were proud and warlike people. They hated to lose. To them, Sauron's fall was unacceptable. They had been forced to flee for their life after their great failure to assist the Dark Lord. But now they had returned and they wanted something more—the kingdom of Gondor itself. Sauron had failed, but the Haradrims would rectify the situation. They would do everything to weaken Gondor from within and without, and slowly took it away from Aragorn—piece by piece if they had to.
Situated over fifty leagues away from Minas Tirith by the hills of Emyn Arnen, Southern Ithilien was the perfect spot for Legolas to monitor the Haradrims' movements. Aragorn had proudly awarded the land to his elven friend as a symbol of their strong friendship and his gratitude for Legolas' never ending support and loyalty. Legolas had been greatly honored by the gift and—to Aragorn's delight—had also invited his kinfolk to set up new colony there.
Many elves from Mirkwood, Lothlorien and Rivendell had come to set their new dwellings. While most of them had departed for the Undying Lands over the sea, some of them—like Legolas—loved Middle-earth too much to leave and were not yet ready to do so. The once barren and unused land of Southern Ithilien was now becoming more prosperous and thriving under the elves' caring hands. There were more greens surrounding the rocky soil. Flowers started to bloom in myriad of colors while birds were heard singing in the trees once more. All in all, Legolas had done very well in ruling and shaping his own little kingdom.
But then came the problems with the Haradrims. And it didn't cease coming even after the numerous of campaigns that Legolas had set out to stop them. His task would be much easier if Lord Faramir—the Prince of Ithilien who resided in Emyn Arnen—were there to join aid, but the man was currently lodging in Rohan. His wife, Lady Éowyn, had just given birth to their first child and she was adamant that her old home was the best place for her quick recovery.
"I'd better abide to her wishes," Faramir had ruefully told Legolas on the day of their departure several weeks ago. "She has threatened to deliver the baby by herself if I insist to have it here, God forbid! She doesn't trust any of those healers of Gondor to come near her! What else am I suppose to do?"
Legolas had quickly assured the man that Éowyn was actually missing Rohan and was afraid of not able to see her old home again, so Faramir's decision to take his wife there was a wise one. The news of the couple's newborn baby had arrived a fortnight ago. Legolas had been glad to find out that both mother and son were doing extremely fine.
"But he has a pair of very strong lungs, if you ask me!" Faramir had added in his missive, bringing smile to Legolas' lips just thinking about it.
With Faramir gone, the governance over both Ithilien and Emyn Arnen fell into Legolas' hands. But the elf prince was afraid that he was not doing a good job out of it. To make matters worse was the sea-longing that was afflicting him much more frequently now than ever. Since the first time he saw the sea right before The War ended, it had been calling for him to set sail, to join his brother Keldarion in Valinor. Legolas could not deny that was what his heart truly desired, but he still had other obligations to fulfill here in Middle-earth.
After observing the mesmerizing sunrise, Legolas stepped back inside. He was getting dressed when someone knocked at his door. "Enter," he called.
The door opened and a middle-aged elven warrior walked in. He smiled seeing the prince already up and about. "You are up early, your highness," the elf named Béregund said. He then frowned when he saw Legolas' pale and drawn face. "Rough night again?" Béregund asked in full concern.
Despite himself, Legolas grinned back at the older elf. "You know me too well, Béregund. I can't hide anything from you, can I?"
The warrior ruefully shook his head. "I've known you since you were just a wild and uncontrollable little child, my prince. Even more so after you had shot my foot with that blasted arrow!"
Legolas burst up laughing. "You are still holding grudge over it, Béregund?"
Béregund smiled at Legolas' laughter. "As long as it helps sharpen your shooting skill, your highness, I'm more than willing to be of any assistance in your target practice."
He never regretted coming to Southern Ithilien to be Legolas' appointed right-hand man. In fact, he was greatly honored when Commander Jaden had announced it to him that day. "He specifically asked for you," Jaden, the highest-ranking military officer of Mirkwood, had told him.
"Why? So he can easily shoot my foot again?" Béregund had jokingly responded.
Jaden had rolled his eyes at that before he chuckled. "I hope so!" Then he sobered. "Take good care of him, Béregund. He is too precious to the king. Be my eyes there. Inform me of his well-beings as frequently as you can. We can not afford to lose him."
As Legolas sat on his bed to put on his boots, Béregund told him, "Two missives just arrived for you, your highness. One is from Lord Thranduil."
Legolas' face lit up. "Really?" He eagerly reached out to take the rolled parchment from Béregund's hands. His smile grew wider as he quickly skimmed the pages of his father's fine penmanship. "He sounds so happy, Béregund," Legolas said after he finished reading it. "Our home is now a better heaven than I ever dreamed of."
"You miss Mirkwood, your highness?" Béregund asked, even though he obviously knew the answer.
"Very much," Legolas briefly replied, folding the parchment with great care before placing it under his pillow.
The warrior looked closely at the prince's face and noticed the slight melancholy there. He knew that Legolas had not returned to Mirkwood since the prince had left for Rivendell to relay the news of Gollum's escape over a year ago. After the war, it took some time for things to settle down once more, and Legolas had been busy helping Aragorn resurrect Gondor. Added to that, he suddenly had Southern Ithilien in his hands to manage.
Just when Legolas thought he had the free time to go back home, something else came up—the Haradrims, for example. The farthest he had gone was to visit his friend Gimli who resided in Aglarond. The dwarf was now Lord of The Glittering Cave—a vassal to Éomer, King of Rohan. But that short excursion was still not enough to lighten Legolas' heart.
Mirkwood wasn't the only thing that Legolas was greatly missing. He missed his father too. He also desperately longed for Narasene, his betrothed. The last time he saw her was on the day the Fellowship departed from Rivendell on their quest to destroy the Ring. She stayed there with Lord Glorfindel, her uncle, waiting for his return. All the while, Legolas' love for her grew stronger. He could hardly wait to see her again and was nearly heartbroken when she couldn't attend Arwen and Aragorn's wedding in Minas Tirith last summer. The Haradrims' movements had already been active by then and Glorfindel, always overprotective where his niece's safety was concern, wouldn't permit her to journey through the long peril road to Gondor.
And, with Southern Ithilien situated near to the sea, Legolas' current affliction was adding burden to his heavy heart.
"Your highness," said Béregund as he gave Legolas the other missive. "This one just arrived after dawn. It's from King Elessar."
Legolas frowned, already guessing what the content was all about. He quickly read it only to find that his guess was correct. "The Haradrims strike again," he told Béregund, his frown deepened. "They have burnt down the village of Colomar." Looking up to gaze directly at the elder elf, Legolas continued, "The king is calling for an urgent meeting. He wants a full explanation."
Béregund nodded. "I'll see to our ride, your highness."
"Béregund, you aren't coming with me," said Legolas, already turning to get his daggers and bow.
The other elf was stunned. "Why not?"
"I need you to stay here and look over matters. This place cannot be left unmanned. We do not know what the Haradrims would do next."
TBC…
I'm so excited! I just came back from attending the LOTR Carnival here in Kuala Lumpur. It was awesome! I got a huge poster and some other paraphernalia! I also have bought the tickets for ROTK premier on December 18. Oh, I just can't wait! I've caught 2 viruses right now; a flu and LOTR fever!