Passing Duty
By: Azra
Rivendell was beautiful as always, the tall white spires of the buildings shining brightly in the mid-afternoon sun. Few people were about on that evening, for a warning had come in of Orc and Goblin spottings in the nearby forest. All were on high alert, the guards at the main path to the city had been doubled.
The call went up from the guards as a lone rider was spotted riding towards them. The horse was a dark brown, easily mistakable for black in the bright sunlight, and the rider was cloaked with the hood drawn over his face.
He reined the horse in as he approached the entrance to the city as he found himself the target of a dozen Elven archers. Their captain stepped forward, his bow drawn and an arrow notched and ready to fire.
"Aaye, stranger." He greeted politely. "Who are you that comes to Imladris in such troubled times?"
The rider said nothing for a moment, then answered. His voice was strong and clear, but his accent was one the archers did not recognize. "I am a weary traveler, looking for a place to rest for some time and possibly restock my provisions." He answered at last.
The guard-captain nodded, recognizing a trace of Elvish in his tone. "I will lead you into the city, and see what the Lord Elrond wishes to be done with you." He said. "But you must leave your weapons with us, for we will not allow violence in this peaceful haven."
One pale hand reached into the cloak and pulled out two gold-handled knives with Elvish scripting engraved with silver. These he handed to another archer, who had moved forward to take them. Then he handed them his bow and quiver, though he did not want to part with them.
Now that he was completely unarmed, he was lead down the winding path and into the city of Rivendell.
~*~
He was lost in thought; his back leaned against a tree in the courtyard. In his hand, he twisted a small ring around his fingers, careful not to actually slip it on. The shiny silver glinted in the dim light of the moon, and the sapphire that was attached to it seemed to almost glow with an inner radiance.
This ring was the one and only reason his home had been destroyed. It had been but ten years ago when he and the other Elves of the Mirkwood had found themselves the target of a vicious Orc attack. He hadn't realized until too late that his father's home, the palace, had been left undefended.
When Legolas had finally arrived, he'd found three Orcs attacking his mother. These he'd killed easily, but he had been unable to save his mother's life. As she died, her skin going pale and cold, she'd given him a very important task, which he was now carrying out.
`Take the ring from my finger and carry it with all haste to Rivendell. There you will find an Elf-lord by the name of Gil-galad. You must give him this ring. Do not let this ring fall into the hands of the Dark Lord, whatever you do. I love you... my son.' She had said no more, her eyes glazing over as death finally came.
Yet, with the rebuilding and Orc-hunting that had to be done, he hadn't been able to complete this task for some time. But he'd always kept it near, where no one would ever know of it. He had kept it strung on a silver chain around his neck, not telling even his father- who had almost died from grief- about it.
Needless to say, there was a reason he'd kept it secret all these years. This ring wasn't just any ring. This ring was, at the moment, one of the most sought after items in Middle-earth. This was Vilya, the Ring of Air. And of the three Rings of the Elves, the Dark Lord Sauron had only been able to find the location of this one. And if word of its location got out again, Sauron would be after it with full force.
The sound of footsteps brought Legolas out of his thoughts and he clenched the ring tightly in a fist before standing. Before him was another elf, a tall warrior with his dark hair streaked grey from age. He was Gil-galad, the Star of Radiance, and the last High King of the Noldor in Middle-earth.
Legolas bowed slightly in respect as he faced such a powerful Elf-Lord. Rumors of Gil-galad's victories were well known even in the distant Mirkwood, and meeting him was considered to be a great honor.
"You wished to see me?" He spoke softly. "I received word that you had something of great importance to speak with me about."
Nodding, Legolas explained, "As you are aware, Lord, my mother was murdered by Orcs during an attack on our home. As she was dying, she requested that I take this to you for you to bear." At this, he held out the Ring of Air.
Gil-galad took the ring and studied it, before nodding. "It was agreed that if something should happen to your mother, I would be the next bearer. Alas, I am to leave in a few days for Gondor." He slipped the ring on his finger. "Ere I leave, I shall pass it on to Elrond. And shall I not return, he will be its bearer."
He turned and left, leaving Legolas alone once more.
By: Azra
Rivendell was beautiful as always, the tall white spires of the buildings shining brightly in the mid-afternoon sun. Few people were about on that evening, for a warning had come in of Orc and Goblin spottings in the nearby forest. All were on high alert, the guards at the main path to the city had been doubled.
The call went up from the guards as a lone rider was spotted riding towards them. The horse was a dark brown, easily mistakable for black in the bright sunlight, and the rider was cloaked with the hood drawn over his face.
He reined the horse in as he approached the entrance to the city as he found himself the target of a dozen Elven archers. Their captain stepped forward, his bow drawn and an arrow notched and ready to fire.
"Aaye, stranger." He greeted politely. "Who are you that comes to Imladris in such troubled times?"
The rider said nothing for a moment, then answered. His voice was strong and clear, but his accent was one the archers did not recognize. "I am a weary traveler, looking for a place to rest for some time and possibly restock my provisions." He answered at last.
The guard-captain nodded, recognizing a trace of Elvish in his tone. "I will lead you into the city, and see what the Lord Elrond wishes to be done with you." He said. "But you must leave your weapons with us, for we will not allow violence in this peaceful haven."
One pale hand reached into the cloak and pulled out two gold-handled knives with Elvish scripting engraved with silver. These he handed to another archer, who had moved forward to take them. Then he handed them his bow and quiver, though he did not want to part with them.
Now that he was completely unarmed, he was lead down the winding path and into the city of Rivendell.
~*~
He was lost in thought; his back leaned against a tree in the courtyard. In his hand, he twisted a small ring around his fingers, careful not to actually slip it on. The shiny silver glinted in the dim light of the moon, and the sapphire that was attached to it seemed to almost glow with an inner radiance.
This ring was the one and only reason his home had been destroyed. It had been but ten years ago when he and the other Elves of the Mirkwood had found themselves the target of a vicious Orc attack. He hadn't realized until too late that his father's home, the palace, had been left undefended.
When Legolas had finally arrived, he'd found three Orcs attacking his mother. These he'd killed easily, but he had been unable to save his mother's life. As she died, her skin going pale and cold, she'd given him a very important task, which he was now carrying out.
`Take the ring from my finger and carry it with all haste to Rivendell. There you will find an Elf-lord by the name of Gil-galad. You must give him this ring. Do not let this ring fall into the hands of the Dark Lord, whatever you do. I love you... my son.' She had said no more, her eyes glazing over as death finally came.
Yet, with the rebuilding and Orc-hunting that had to be done, he hadn't been able to complete this task for some time. But he'd always kept it near, where no one would ever know of it. He had kept it strung on a silver chain around his neck, not telling even his father- who had almost died from grief- about it.
Needless to say, there was a reason he'd kept it secret all these years. This ring wasn't just any ring. This ring was, at the moment, one of the most sought after items in Middle-earth. This was Vilya, the Ring of Air. And of the three Rings of the Elves, the Dark Lord Sauron had only been able to find the location of this one. And if word of its location got out again, Sauron would be after it with full force.
The sound of footsteps brought Legolas out of his thoughts and he clenched the ring tightly in a fist before standing. Before him was another elf, a tall warrior with his dark hair streaked grey from age. He was Gil-galad, the Star of Radiance, and the last High King of the Noldor in Middle-earth.
Legolas bowed slightly in respect as he faced such a powerful Elf-Lord. Rumors of Gil-galad's victories were well known even in the distant Mirkwood, and meeting him was considered to be a great honor.
"You wished to see me?" He spoke softly. "I received word that you had something of great importance to speak with me about."
Nodding, Legolas explained, "As you are aware, Lord, my mother was murdered by Orcs during an attack on our home. As she was dying, she requested that I take this to you for you to bear." At this, he held out the Ring of Air.
Gil-galad took the ring and studied it, before nodding. "It was agreed that if something should happen to your mother, I would be the next bearer. Alas, I am to leave in a few days for Gondor." He slipped the ring on his finger. "Ere I leave, I shall pass it on to Elrond. And shall I not return, he will be its bearer."
He turned and left, leaving Legolas alone once more.
