Disclaimer: I do not own Middle-earth or any characters conjured up from the brilliant mind of J.R.R. Tolkien.
Author's Note: I decided to change Legolas's character a little (or a lot) in this story. Instead of him being the Prince of Mirkwood, he is a Maia living among the Elves. More about him will be described within the story...so read it if you'd like to know.
Remember, not everything you'll read is accurate due my little twists and imagination. Anyway, enjoy!
REVERIES OF THE PAST
CHAPTER I: The Beginning
"The heavens shine brightly this evening, yes?"
"Not as bright as I once remembered, my Lord," the elf looks above with distant eyes.
"Come now, Laiqualassë, no need for that sort of mood. Enjoy the night and its many wonders. You take for granted what is given to you freely."
"Given freely," he lightly mocks. "Who is to say what can or should be given freely especially to those who didn't ask for it?"
"You didn't ask for it but still you accepted it," he answers. "Many times you come to my ponds and I appear to you to converse of the past and what may be the future. I have been governing my waters long before the great song of the Ainur to keep balance and order off-shore. You of all the Children know this…even before the World was created. The Valar and I who chose to enter the World at its beginning are bound to it until it reaches its destined End. Knowing this, I still entered, not because I was forced, but because I chose to willingly…just as I choose to be here when you seek counsel."
"I meant no offense, my Lord."
"Almost 3,000 years in the Outer Lands and yet you still linger in the past."
The Elf slowly turns his gaze away from the night and looks into the pond and whispers, "The past is all I have..."
"You know best that the Straight Road is not open to you for return. I sense your longing for home but you cannot for the Elder King does not wish it so. It is not yet time."
He looks on with a heavy heart and nods.
"Do not grief or mourn for your fate still lies with the Firstborn. You are only immortal by nature, do not forget."
A slight breeze blows his way as the water calms and the image in the pond disappears bringing a gentle wave back to its surface. It would be another three days before they reach their destination.
"Gentle tidings, Lord Ulmo," Legolas speaks softly.
Legolas's glowing spirit dims as he descends back onto the ground from his three feet posture in the air after hearing someone coming. Quickly and swiftly he hides himself in the trees, quietly jumping from one branch to the other until he can get a good look at the possible intruder.
Orcs perhaps? No. He sees two Elves on night patrol outside their assigned post. He hears one of them say in silence to the other that the light they saw in the forest could possibly be from the moon. The Elf he speaks to eventually agrees at the idea and heads back to patrol the other side of their camp without having a second thought.
A small sigh of relief escapes from him. He knows better than to be careless when taking on his original form—or at the least the form he is permitted to take—as to not draw attention to himself. Few know his true identity and that's how it is to be; so said the Elder King.
Laiqualassë is his ancient name. His Maia name. The Maiar are lesser in stature than the Valar, but are nonetheless still powerful beings. Although he's not allowed to return to the Blessed Realm, Aman, he isn't forbidden from entering. The Elder King named Manwë had greater plans for him and so denied him access to where he once belonged for the time being.
Given to Legolas by Oromë are a bow and arrow for weapons and the forest for a home. The Elven-blades he carries were given to him by Aulë the Smith and was taught how to wield it by the best swordsman experts beyond the lands of Middle-earth.
In more ancient times, Oromë was too often indulged in riding in the forests of Middle-earth to give counsel or proper acknowledgment to the Firstborn. Besides the Valar, only those of the Maiar that belonged to his people, such as Legolas, could catch a glimpse of him as he journeys far and deep into unknown woodlands that lay in the Outer Lands.
Opposite of the Lord of the Forests, Ulmo, was fond of the Elves. He kept silent watch of the Firstborn and the Afterborn during a time in the First Age. He also eventually grew fond of Legolas. Ulmo would often find him by one of his many hidden ponds deep in thought in Greenwood the Great, carving creatures from wood or staring at the stars in the dark hours of the night.
An Elf he looks and an Elf he is to remain on his time here in Middle-earth—a form taken on by many of the Valar and Maiar. Legolas is also much older than many of the Elven kindred believed him to be. He is thought to be around 2,931-years-old but a deep look into his blue orbs one could see a time long forgotten in this Age.
Those who know of his true origin know he's even older than Olórin, another Maia of the Istari order who took on the form of an old man. Mithrandir he was called by the Elves and Gandalf the Grey by Men.
Manwë allowed Legolas to leave with his spirit as he sailed from his home, however, the full potential of his powers are bound to keep suspicious eyes and ears from questioning who he was and where he came from. Mostly so that he wouldn't be tempted to use such a great power around those who didn't understand it. Even the Istari set a limit to their magic. The one thing he was absolutely forbidden to do was travel formless in these lands.
"Tirion has not been the same without you, Laiqualassë of Oromë's people," a voice came suddenly, bringing Legolas out of his reverie.
He was prepared to draw his bow and arrow not knowing the owner of the voice until he finally hears a familiar laugh to where he slowly eases his guard. "Ah, yes, I too miss Tirion..." he calmly speaks as his eyes quickly dart through the shadows. Finally locating where the other being was, he says with a smirk, "I see you."
A figure slowly appears from within the trees.
"One could never hide in the shadows from those eyes of yours, could they? As I recall, you were always taking the fun out of things." The figure bows and then grins at him as they finally make eye contact.
Legolas stands his ground with his smirk and bows his head. "Hiperion. What brings you to Middle-earth? Run out of tricks to play on the Holy Ones and unsuspecting others?"
"Not what but who," he corrects, "and no, I haven't done any sort of bad deed towards our gods. That was centuries ago. Besides..." he crosses his arms, "Oromë said if he ever caught me himself, I would be banished and the Isle would forever be closed to me." Legolas smiles at his predicament. "Can you believe that? As if I ever did any ill will toward him."
Hiperion is well-known for his playful trickery on the Maiar and Elves who reside in Tirion and Tol Eressëa in Aman. A Maia himself, he's also a people of Oromë who amuses himself in games and laughs. Those who were not the target of his jokes thought he was an amusing character, however, during an incident, one Vala in particular who wasn't fond of his mischievous ways demanded he be punished.
Tulkas, the most warlike of the Valar, didn't appreciate Hiperion making his people's weapons turn into rusty metal just before they were preparing for sparring practice. When the Vala heard of the news from one of his people, he grew angry and sought the Maia to be properly disciplined.
Nessa, the wife of Tulkas, calmed him down and assured him she would speak with her brother, Oromë, about the Maia's behavior and so, was warned.
"You should feel lucky it wasn't the Elder King's people. He could've stripped you of your powers all together, or worst, turned you into something unpleasant," Legolas softly laughs, "A toad perhaps?"
"Laugh all you want, Laiqualassë," Hiperion makes a sour face, "But Manwë would forgive me. He isn't as ill-tempered as some of the other Ainur and he always did like a good laugh himself. Furthermore, I doubt I'm any part of his worries."
"What do you mean?"
"No one has seen the King of Arda leave his Holy Mountain in quite some time. Must be concerned with far greater duties than to punish a Maia, let alone banish him!"
"Ah yes...to be banished." sighs Legolas.
"The Straight Road is there, my friend, I know it as do you. Whatever plans Manwë has in store for you must be for a greater good. I believe something life changing is about to occur in this Age...I can feel it."
"We shall see. So now tell me then, who brings you here?"
Hiperion smiles at the question and starts walking in circles around Legolas. He speaks closely to his ear, "Can't hear her whispers in the dark? I do."
"What does she want with you?"
The Maia shrugs. "I don't know? She hasn't revealed it to me yet. She's called me to join your company and only request that I keep an Elven form. I agreed and here I now stand before you. If you wish I can place this camp closer to her domain to make the journey half a day shorter while the Firstborn sleep?"
"No. There will be no magic this hour. The Firstborn are strong and dedicated; they won't tire on the journey. You must remember while you are in Middle-earth, you're not as privileged as in Aman. We must try and follow the ways of the Children."
"But we are so much more powerful than them," Hiperion tries reasoning.
Legolas shakes his head and walks quietly back to their camp without a response.
"Fine, Laiqualassë...as you wish..."