2941, Third Age
…Go to the North. There is a member of the Dúnedain you should meet…
Snowflakes blew against his skin, their edges feeling like small icy daggers. Blue eyes squinted against the blowing snow, and blonde locks whipped in the wind. The elements though did not hinder the silent traveler and he steadily marched onward, away from heartache, away from home.
…Your mother loved you Legolas, more than anything. More than life itself…
Though meant to be words of love, never had the elf prince felt so much pain. It was what was left unsaid that was the most painful and Legolas grit his teeth as he remembered the cold disappointment in his father's eyes. Many days and nights had passed since then, though it did not wash the pain away. Elves were immortal and their pain was as well. Legolas did not know if he could ever go back.
Stopping, Legolas shielded his eyes against the snow. The blizzard he stood in would have frozen a mortal by now, though the elf merely felt the cold against his skin without its crippling effects. As his eyes focused on the horizon, past time and distance, he could see the edge of the storm and thanked the Valar he would soon be out of the dizzying swirl of snow. Though his elven senses were sharp, he could not compete against the savage winds that covered all sound and threw icy flakes in his vision like knives. It made the elf Prince nervous to not be able to hear if he was being followed and his eyes constantly swung from side to side, scanning the whiteness for any signs of hostile life. He had encountered several small bands of orcs on his journey; they had been weak and he had dispatched them easily. Their defeat upon the foothills of Erebor had dealt the northern orcs a great blow.
…Erebor…
Legolas thought upon that mountain bitterly and he pushed the great battle from his mind.
He continued to walk, keeping his eyes on the horizon. Soon, the snow had stopped swirling and drifted from the sky lazily in large, fat flakes. The scenery about him would have been beautiful if he were in a brighter mood. A sardonic smile tugged at the corners of Legolas' mouth.
She would have loved to see the mountains fresh with snow.
Legolas growled in frustration, pushing the image of fire-red hair and dancing green eyes from his mind. His father said to go north, and north he went. He wondered if she had been forgiven by Thranduil and let back into the kingdom. Legolas shook his head in answer to his musings. No, Thranduil was not one to go back on his word.
Onward Legolas walked. For a moment, as the sun sat between cloud and horizon, Legolas reveled in its light. But it quickly sank away and washed Legolas' path in darkness. The snowy clouds still remained, blocking all light from the stars and moon. It was not a hindrance to the elf though, and as the wind ceased it's blowing, his sharp eyes saw the landscape in bright detail.
The passage of time meant nothing to Legolas and as the sun rose over the peaks of the mountains, Legolas welcomed its light. He did not see the need to stop in the night and knew that he could march another full day without needing to rest. Just past mid-morning, Legolas felt the path beneath him begin to run downhill and he knew he was close. There was rumored to be a Dúnedain outpost upon the other side of the mountains. That would be his quickest way to find this ranger, Strider.
Another day came and went, and by nightfall, Legolas had reached the foothills of the mountains. His heart lightened some as the ground leveled out and he found a small cave to spend a night in rest. His meditations though were dark and brooding. Unable to gain the rest he desired, the elf-prince left his shelter and continued to walk. By the time the sun rose high enough to shine over the retreating peaks of the mountains, Legolas had covered much ground. A forest of pine trees covered the feet of the mountains and the elf welcomed their calm presence. He could feel the tree's surprise at his coming and every-so-often, a branch of soft needles would dip to brush across his face. Legolas wondered at the tree's evident affection for him until the sun began to set and the elf felt the looming shadow grow.
Climb Prince! A soft voice whispered urgently. Legolas took hold of the branches of the nearest pine, pulling himself quickly into its needled arms. Legolas wondered what was passing by as the tree wove its branches around him and he watched silently through the suddenly still needles. It did not take him long to hear what frightened the trees.
Cracking boughs and heavy feet signaled the oncoming orcs before Legolas heard their harsh language bouncing off the trees.
"I smell somthin' rotten; sickening sweet like elf meat," a rough voice grated through the trees and Legolas felt his adrenaline begin to rush through his veins.
"I don't care what you smell; I've had enough of those filthy wretches to last my life and I don't care if I ever see another. Blasted elves and their sharp blades," a higher pitched voice complained. Legolas strained his eyes to see through the trees, hoping there were only a few of the creatures. He knew his quiver was long empty and he reached to his back to make sure his now-single knife was in place.
"They've called all the wanderers to Gundabad and that's where we go, smelly elves or not," a third voice intoned. A rumbling mutter of assent floated through the trees and Legolas could not tell how many orcs there truly were beside the three. The orcs then fell silent save for the stomping of their feet and Legolas watched as their dark shapes finally walked beneath his tree. He felt the branches tighten around him and he drew in a steady breath. One of the orcs made a sound of disgust and stopped beneath the tree.
"I'm tellin' you, there's an elf nearby!" the orc spat on the ground and looked up into the tree's branches. Legolas sat as still as a statue, his only movement the involuntary swallow of disgust as the orc's rancid smell wafted up to him. He knew the orcs matched elves when it came to sight in the dark and Legolas could almost feel the eyes of the orcs upon him.
"I smell it too," Another orc said, stepping next to its companion. Legolas heard a growl ahead of the two dallying orcs and he watched a tall shadow join the pair.
"I smell nothing, flâgît!" the tallest orc growled, grabbing the smallest of the pair and throwing them away from the tree. The smaller orc yelped and leaped up but did not attack the larger orc.
"There is an elf, Pizdur," the sniffing orc said, leaning on his hands against the trunk of the pine tree. Legolas felt the tree begin to shudder under the orc's touch and he put his hands upon the trunk of the tree, willing it to be still.
"Fine!" the largest orc snapped. Legolas heard the creak of a bowstring and the twang as the orc sent an arrow into the depths of the tree. Legolas barely had time to move out of the arrow's way and he unsheathed his knife and leaped from the tree, landing atop the smallest orc. It died without a fight and Legolas turned as the other two rushed at him. He slashed the sniffer orc across the throat before it brought its blade down upon his head. The other, Pizdur, stood back and Legolas knew it was no normal orc. It stood nearly a head taller than him and its body was wrapped in sinewy muscle. The only sign of surprise was that the orc grunted. It did not seem to care that Legolas had killed the other two orcs with him. Legolas stared at the tall orc, his blue eyes locked with the orc's yellow eyes. The Orc was almost passively indifferent to Legolas' sudden arrival.
"Those cursed twins sent you, didn't they? They killed my favorite kruflob!"
The orc lunged at Legolas then, and he rolled away from the orc's attack, feeling the frozen ground shake as the beast's blade struck the earth behind him. As he sprang up, Legolas slashed at the orc's legs, catching it along one of its hamstrings. The orc bellowed and fell heavily upon the ground. Legolas leaped upon the orc and stabbed his knife into its chest.
"Curse you, you and all the tarks," the orc spat. Legolas pulled his knife from the orc's chest, slicing its throat and ending its agony. The moon managed to break through the clouds and a weak beam of light filtered through the trees, landing on the slain orc's face. The brand of Gundabad stood out in a raised scar on its cheek, and Legolas stood quickly, images of icy ruins and death flashing through his mind. When he turned though, another shadow stood before him and the press of steel was upon his neck.
"You should be warier in these lands,"
Suddenly, a torch blazed and Legolas squinted his eyes against the orange light. Before him stood an elf; the elf's hair was dark and his eyes were silver-grey. He wore armor and upon his breastplate was a shining star.
"What have you found brother?" an identical voice called through the trees. Through the trees walked an elf identical in face and form to the one before Legolas, though he wore bright shining mail. The mail-clad elf came behind his brother and his eyes widened when he saw Legolas.
"You are a long way from home, Prince," the mail-clad elf walked around his brother, pushing the blade away from Legolas' throat. The brothers studied Legolas, their keen grey eyes resting first on his empty quiver, to his single knife, to the old and new stains of orc blood upon his clothing. Their expressions betrayed nothing though Legolas felt as if he were on trial. Looking behind himself to free his eyes from the brother's searching gaze, Legolas saw that a man held the torch that lit their party. The man's eyes were serious under his hood though he nodded at Legolas in greeting.
"What brings you across the mountains, Prince?" one of the elves asked. Legolas was not prepared for the anger that erupted in his soul and he took a visible breath. The two elves before him exchanged a glance and Legolas wondered what the brothers had seen upon his face.
"Perhaps we have started things off wrongly," the mail-clad brother said in placating tones.
"I am Elrohir, son of Elrond, and this is my twin, Elladan," the two elves bowed at Legolas.
"Legolas… Greenleaf," the elf-prince answered. The twins shared a look between them again then nodded as if they had spoken to each other.
"Come, there is much we need to speak of," Elrohir said, turning and walking deeper into the forest.
Legolas followed the brothers without a word, the only sound breaking the silence the footfalls of the Ranger behind Legolas. The elf-prince had heard rumor that the sons of Elrond now roamed with the Rangers in the North, though he had not expected to encounter them in the wild. He studied the way the brothers moved in unison, and he watched as they nodded and shrugged at each other though no words passed between them.
After nearly an hour of walking, Legolas heard the outpost before he saw it through the trees. The crackle of flames and the muted sound of voices floated through the trees towards them, and Legolas smelled the faint waft of roasting meat. When they stepped into the clearing, several men hailed the elven brothers.
"My lords how went the scout?" a tall ranger with silvered hair stood from the fire to address the brothers and his gaze rested on Legolas who stood behind them.
"It was only a small band heading north, but they were dispatched by the time we caught up with them," Elrohir answered for the pair and he stepped aside and drew Legolas forward.
"We have the Prince to thank though, for he was the one who slew the brutes for us," Elrohir added. The rangers around the fire bowed to Legolas and he could not stop the ire rising in him. He was a Prince no more and did not expect to be treated as such.
"Mae govannen, Prince," the tall ranger said, saluting Legolas with a hand to his heart. Legolas returned the gesture, though his heart burned with the memory of the last person who had saluted him so.
"We would be honored to share our fire and our food with you," the tall ranger said, pulling Legolas from his thoughts. "Come, we have just roasted a wild ram from the mountains. Eat and be happy,"
"Many thanks," Legolas said quietly, moving to sit next to the fire. He listened as the brothers spoke with some of the rangers, relating what they had seen of orc movements and other signs in the wild. Then he heard them approaching and they each sat down across the fire from Legolas. They carved some meat from the haunch that still sat over the fire and Legolas did the same. After a moment of quiet eating, Legolas heard the brothers take a breath.
"Pray, tell us…" Elladan began.
"… what news have you heard from Erebor?" Elrohir finished. Legolas could not stop the hiss of disgust that left his lips and he did not miss the way the brothers looked at each other in concern.
"All is well in Erebor, though it was a bitter fight. Gundabad emptied its forces upon us but they were defeated,"
"And Oakenshield?" Elladan asked. Legolas shook his head.
"He and his sister-sons were slain upon Ravenhill," Legolas said, an unwelcome sting of pain lashing across his chest. He could still hear her sobs as they carried the young dwarf away…
"Who then has taken the seat under the mountain?" Elrohir asked, drawing Legolas from his memories.
"Dain Ironfoot came to his kin's aid and I would not be surprised if he claimed the throne," Legolas said, taking another bite of meat.
"But you are unsure…" Elladan began. Legolas felt an angry curse rise to his lips though he took a deep breath instead.
"I stayed after the battle only long enough to see that my father was alive; I saw that he was well and I left," Legolas spoke in Sindarin, his voice tight. The brothers could not miss the way the elven Prince's eyes had become decidedly dark and they shared another look. A moment of silence passed and Legolas was happy for it. He could hear the rangers of the outpost speculating on his appearance and he absently wondered if they understood what he had just spoken in his native tongue. The silver-haired ranger who had greeted the elves had stayed by the fire and Legolas had to commend the man on his nonchalance as he listened to the elves speak.
"There is something else, some other reason you have come over the mountains," Elladan said quietly, drawing Legolas' gaze upwards. Legolas was silent for a moment, weighing his words.
"My father told me I should seek out a great Ranger's son. He said he would be a great man,"
"Who is this man you seek?" Elrohir asked. Legolas' eyes flicked to the silver-haired ranger. The man was paying attention unashamedly now, though Legolas did not fault him for all the Rangers were like kin to one another.
"He is the son of Arathorn, though I only know that he goes by Strider," Legolas said, his words feeling weighty. The two elves and the silver-haired ranger though remained silent, and Legolas looked up questioningly. The twins' expressions were decidedly blank, though Elrohir's mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile. The ranger though, looked as if he was barely holding back mirth and Legolas felt his anger bristle.
"We are grieved to tell you that Arathorn has gone to his fathers," Elladan said, his face the more serious of the three.
"Though the 'ranger' Strider whom you seek is a far cry from manhood just yet," Elrohir said, starting to giggle in a most unlordly manor. Even Elladan's serious face twitched and Legolas clenched his fists.
"I did not abandon my homeland to be made a fool," Legolas gritted between his teeth. The elven brothers continued to giggle and it was the silver-haired ranger who spoke next.
"Forgive them, my Prince, you will become accustomed to their mirth in time,"
Legolas gave the silver-haired ranger an incredulous look and the ranger dropped his gaze to collect himself.
"The one you seek is yet a lad, only ten summers old. He and his mother took refuge in Imladris eight years ago and the boy has been named Elrond's foster-son,"
"He is called Estel among my father's house, though we are the ones responsible for the name Strider," Elladan supplied, seemingly over his moment of mirth. But when Legolas' eyes found the other elf's a snicker escaped Elladan's lips and Elrohir dissolved into another fit of laughter.
Legolas lay back on the pallet the Rangers had supplied to him, his mind whirling. Anger, uncertainty, and remorse swirled through him in a dizzying maelstrom and the elf Prince had trouble quieting his mind. Though he felt remorse for leaving, he knew he would not go back to his home. Not for a long time. If there was anything worse than his father's disapproval, it was his benevolence. Legolas' pride would not allow him to flee back to his father like a whipped puppy to its master. And if she was there? No, Legolas would not return to his home for a very long time.
Despite his anger at his father, Legolas' mind drifted back over his words. Though Thranduil was vindictive at times, Legolas knew he could not have made up the existence of the Ranger's son. The elven-king must have had a glimpse of foresight, though it must have been the barest of glimpses to be so vague. But to be sent away, searching for a great man only to find that it was a boy he sought after? Once again, Legolas' wounded pride welled in him and he grit his teeth.
Eventually, Legolas felt himself drift away into his meditations and he welcomed the rest, finally feeling safe to sink into his deepest thoughts. Images of battle and fire and ice floated through the Prince's mind and he struggled to free himself from their dark grasp. He was about to wake himself from his meditation when warm golden light flooded his thoughts and peace washed over him. After a moment, Legolas noticed the quiet trickle of a fountain and he looked around to see that he sat in a small garden. The place looked familiar to Legolas though he could not remember where he was. Suddenly, a child's laugh rang through the air and Legolas looked toward the sound.
"I'll save you, mama! Look out!"
A young boy ran into the garden followed by his young mother. The young woman looked tired, though she smiled at the boy, who was wielding a wooden sword against invisible enemies. The lad scampered about and Legolas felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. The lad's dark hair was a tousled mess and his mother plucked a leaf from its tangles as he ran by. The boy laughed and threw his arms around his mother's waist and then ran off again. Legolas looked around to where the boy went but could not see him.
"Hello,"
Legolas started, looking to see that the boy now sat next to him. The boy smiled at Legolas and his grey eyes sparkled.
"I'm Estel. We are going to be great friends, I just know it," the boy scrunched his face into a silly grin and Legolas felt a genuine smile spread across his face.
"Son, where are you?"
Estel's head whipped toward the sound of his mother's voice and he looked at Legolas apologetically.
"Mother needs me," Estel scooted from the bench and disappeared behind a rosebush. But then his head peeked back around the bush and an impish smile spread across his young face.
"Tell my brothers to bring you soon!" then the boy disappeared and Legolas heard him giggling as he snuck up on his mother. He could hear the pretense in the woman's voice as she feigned shock and Legolas smiled, remembering doing the same with his mother.
Suddenly the golden picture shattered and Legolas felt pain radiate through him as he saw his mother's face. Then she faded into darkness, causing Legolas to wake with a start.
Legolas lay still on his pallet, taking deep breaths in hopes to wash the sudden pain in his chest away. As the pain faded, Legolas remembered the lad, Estel. A small smile crossed Legolas' face at the memory of the boy's impish smile and sparkling eyes. As Legolas mulled over his dream, a strange restlessness settled in his stomach. Hearing the voices of Elladan and Elrohir, Legolas rose from his pallet. When he ducked from under the tent flap, the twin's head's turned in unison to look at him.
"Greetings," Elladan said.
"We hope you rested well," Elrohir intoned. The brother's watched Legolas carefully, watching to see if his anger of the previous night would return.
"I did rest well, thank you," Legolas said, offering the brothers a small smile. The brothers looked at each other and Elladan nodded.
"We've had a dream…" Elladan began.
"… To take you to Imladris," Elrohir finished. Legolas looked between the brothers carefully, wondering if they had read his mind. When the twin's grey eyes remained serious, Legolas nodded.
"I too had a dream to go to your home. It seems Estel wishes me there,"
The brothers shared another look then both turned to Legolas.
"Let us prepare the men and we will begin our journey," the brothers said in unison, turning away from Legolas and splitting in opposite directions. Legolas turned and fetched his meager belongings from the tent where he slept. He studied his empty quiver, for once, wishing he had restocked his store before he had left Erebor. Someone behind him cleared their throat and Legolas turned to see one of the younger men before him.
"The lords said to give you these," The young ranger handed Legolas a sheaf of arrows. "And these," The man then handed Legolas a bundle of clothing. "They feel you would be happy to be rid of the smell of orc blood,"
"Thank you," Legolas said and the young ranger bowed his head with a smile. As the young man left, Legolas ducked inside the tent where he had slept, stripping away his soiled garments quickly and donning the new. Though elves were immune to the elements, Legolas could not deny that the warmth of the thick woolen leggings and tunic brightened his soul. Lastly was a dark cloak that Legolas fastened about his shoulders then he ducked out of the tent. By the time he had strapped his full quiver to his back and checked his bowstring, the brothers had returned. They were dressed for travel as well, and they studied Legolas carefully.
"All is ready, Prince," Elladan said. Legolas felt himself bristle at his title and he pushed his rising ire away.
"Please, only Legolas," Legolas said quietly. The brothers nodded in unison then looked at each other.
"Let us be off then," Elrohir said. Elladan nodded and they began the trek south.
A/N: I'm back! Whew! I know it has been some time since the Hobbit films have been out but I've had this idea in my head since I first saw the ending of BOTFA. I know PJ altered the timeline of both the Hobbit and the Lord Of the Rings but I still couldn't leave this little "flub" alone. And since the idea of Legolas and Aragorn's friendship starting when Aragorn was just a boy wouldn't leave my mind, here I am. I will do my best to update when I can but being a mom of three takes a toll on my writing time. But...
... I'm so glad to be back... :)