May There Be a Light

Anarion Tari Culnama

Chapter I

A/N: I basically made this story up as I went along. It's most definitely not one of my better ones, but I finished it, all the same. It's grows a bit more interesting and complicated towards the end, as well as a bit better written, because I wrote the first two chapters when I was about 12, and the rest when I was about 14. I've just recently decided to finish it. I hope you enjoy it, at least a little bit at most.

"Legolas, why are you here?" the woman asked, her face drawn with confusion. "We haven't seen any of your people for many years. Can it be there is trouble?"

Legolas sighed, regretting the news he had to deliver. "My lady," he began. "As always, your perception shines bright. I am afraid I bring ill news. The Southrons have entered Mirkwood. We come to ask for your aid in war. Their numbers are many and we are not certain we will come through victorious. They captured an outpost on the southern edge of the forest, leaving none alive, so they thought. Two of my people escaped and brought word of what had taken place." Here he paused, regarding the knowing look in Galadriel's deep eyes. "Please inform Celeborn of the news when he returns," he added. "I pray you will consider this request carefully before coming to a decision."

She gently raised a hand to stop him.

"I shall inform him," she said. "Do not worry Legolas Thranduilian, consider your request granted. It always pleases those of the Golden Wood to aid our friends of Mirkwood." She smiled reassuringly, and Legolas felt everything would turn out for the best as long as the Galadhrim pledged their support. He bowed courteously and turned to leave.

"Legolas, would you please remain here tonight?" asked Galadriel. "Haldir will lead the army to Mirkwood on the morrow, and I feel it would be safer for you if you accompanied them for your return journey. What say you?"

Legolas nodded, thankfully. He was nearly exhausted from the long ride and a rest seemed wise to him. "I shall, my lady. And I thank you most profusely. The people of Mirkwood are forever in your debt."

An elf-maid clad in white led Legolas to an area with many groves of mallorn trees where he might sleep. Dropping several cushions and blankets on the grass before him, she turned to leave. He thanked her, watching as she departed. Resting his back against the base of a tree with his hands interlocked behind his head, he gazed drowsily at the mallorns beginning to drop their golden leaves. It brought back memories of times before. Times that were less evil, where peril did not reign and one needn't fear leaving his own home. He sighed wistfully, watching as the leaves fell softly to the grass, announcing the beginning of the autumn season.

Before long, his eyes grew heavy and he fell into a light sleep. Normally, if he had been in any other place, he would have had apprehensions about sleeping out in the open where enemies could appear at any moment. But here, it was different. This was the Golden Wood, and never did evil enter that fair place.

Though his dreams were dark and foreboding, a sense of hope lingered beyond the shadow. A hope to carry on though the outlook was bleak and defeat seemed imminent. Something told him the Southron's onslaught would fail and good would triumph in the end, but one could never be certain. These were evil times.

Legolas rose before the dawn and went immediately to the stables. His white stallion, Arato, was pawing impatiently at the straw to depart.

"Yes," said Legolas, patting the horse's neck. "We will go soon." He swung open the gate and grasped Arato's halter.

"Tula," the elf whispered gently, leading the horse out. He tied the stallion to a post and brushed his smooth white coat, all the while singing in his clear elvish voice. The horse nickered softly.

"Do you wish to sing as well?" Legolas chuckled. He gave the horse another pat and continued to run the brush over his body. At length, the sun rose golden upon the land, sending its warm rays in through the stable doors to light the day. Legolas led Arato out and swung himself deftly onto his back. Arato gave a neigh as if to announce that they were leaving and Legolas could feel the horse's eagerness to run, pulling at the reins.

"No, no," scolded the elf. "Not yet. We must wait." He urged the horse to a walk and soon they came to the barracks situated brilliantly under an enormous spreading mallorn. From a distance, Legolas could see the battalion of archers and swordsman making preparations to depart. They had not yet mounted their steeds, but had shouldered their weapons and were waiting for an order.

"All elves mount and make formations," commanded Haldir. "Swordsman in front, archers fall in behind." The order was carried out swiftly and skillfully. Legolas positioned himself at the rear and greeted those around him.

"To Mirkwood!" cried Haldir. "Forth Galadhrim! To battle and honor." As the company moved out, Legolas urged Arato to a walk and then on to a steady gait.

"Mara aure," he said to an auburn haired elf riding beside him. "What is your name?"

"I cannot believe this!" said the elf. "Can it be that you have forgotten your old best friend?"

Legolas studied his face, once more, trying to see who it reminded him of.

"It cannot be," said Legolas in disbelief. "Orophin?" The elf nodded.

"You've changed so much since our last meeting!" exclaimed Legolas.

Orophin had been Legolas' boyhood friend. Whenever there had been a festival in Mirkwood and Haldir's family had come to visit, Legolas and the two younger boys would share the best of times together.

Orophin and Rumil, the closest to him in age, he spent all of his time with for the most part, on account of Haldir being "too serious". And that was just fine with Haldir. He had much more enjoyed the company of the adults anyway.

"Where is Rumil?" asked Legolas searching the riders with his eyes.

"There," Orophin pointed. "He holds the standard."

Legolas looked and saw him ahead, bearing a standard in the colours of the Golden Wood, chiefly green and silver. Legolas sighed. So much had changed, it was overwhelming. He barely recognized the ones who had at one time been his best friends. And now that he had seen them again, he felt a strange sense of loss, as if his child-hood years had gone by too swiftly.

At length, they paused to rest the horses. Legolas dismounted and let Arato free to graze for a few minutes. Seeing the rest of his comrades tending to their horses some ways away, he made his way towards the company and approached Rumil.

"Well met," greeted Legolas, warmly. "How has life been to you, my friend?"

"Legolas!" said Rumil. "What a fair day it is to see you! Orophin told me that you were here. At first, I didn't believe him, but now I see."

"Yes," said Legolas. "To me it is the same."

"I still can barely believe it," continued Rumil. "The last time I saw you, it was at the Winter Festival in Mirkwood. Master Elrond was there, along with the Lords of Imladris. Celeborn and Galadriel were there as well. My family came also. I do not believe anyone was entirely prepared for what happens when young elflings get together. That was the time when you, Orophin, and I dropped over-ripe fruit off of the balcony onto the elves that passed underneath. When they looked up to see who did it, we would jump back so they couldn't see us. We didn't get into a significant amount of trouble until we dropped several pears onto Lord Elrond and his young daughter, Arwen. Do you remember that?"

"All too well," said Legolas, recalling the memory of good times passed. "I was the only one who got into trouble, however. I had to help Lindorie in the kitchen for two weeks after that." The elf gave a pretense of displeasure, but he was inwardly laughing at he and his old friends' clever prank. He gave Rumil a sturdy pat on the back and went to collect Arato.