Chapter Six
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Legolas frowned as a rather harried-looking Elvenking approached. There was an odd familiarity about the scene, though he couldn't quite place it. Still, anxiety clutched at his stomach. He reached a hand out to his beckoning sire. But as their fingers' met, a mist swallowed Thranduil whole. Brow furrowed, Legolas took a step toward the place his father had been, which seemed only to provoke the mist. It expanded and pressed in on him from every side.
Legolas twisted round frantically, searching for…anything, but there was naught. The stars were veiled, and their song stilled. The trees no longer murmured. Even the breeze had ceased to whisper. There was naught but swirling wisps of nothingness all around him.
Panic swelled in his chest, robbing Legolas of breath. He dropped dizzily to his knees. Squeezing his eyes shut to still the spinning world, he heard a familiar voice whisper, 'Peace, young one. Do not be afraid, you are not alone.'
Legolas lifted a hand to his face to capture the hand he felt pressed soothingly against his cheek, but he felt only his own flesh.
"Naaaaaay, Elros!" he wailed. "Do not leave! I am lost! I know not what path I am to walk! I beg you, do not desert me!"
A breeze stirred, caressing his tear-stained cheeks, and upon it he heard, You are not alone, young one.
"I am," Legolas argued, desperately.
Nay. You are not forsaken. I cannot walk the path with you, but never do the Children of Ilúvatar walk it alone.
Legolas sagged dispiritedly. His heart whispered the truth of the words, which brought some measure of comfort. Still, he was lost, and his heart whispered, equally, that he must walk the path of which Elros spoke, or be trapped forever in the pale nothingness swirling about him. Yet, he did not know what path that was, or where to find it.
The path lies beneath your feet, young one. You need only stand and take a step to find it, and when you reach its end, there I will be waiting with open arms to receive you.
Brow furrowed, Legolas forced himself up off his knees. Peering at the ground beneath his feet, he watched in wonderment as some of the mist cleared, revealing that he did indeed stand upon a path. He took a tentative step, and more of the path opened up before him.
His despair lifting, Legolas followed the path, swift and eager. It led to a bridge across a wide abyss. Peering down into it, his eyes soon met more swirling mist, yet it was plain to see that it measured deep. Legolas could not help but wonder how far it fell, but he was not truly concerned. Though the bridge was narrow, demanding a sure foot, peace radiated from it, speaking to his heart and urging him onward.
Legolas lifted his gaze and followed the length of the bridge to its end. The distance was vast, testing the limits of his keen elven sight. Still, he thought he could see a dim, half mist-veiled figure waiting there, arms extended in welcome. Legolas smiled, relieved to see another, distant as he was, and lifted a foot to step upon the bridge.
"Stay, Las-nin!"
The prince halted. Frowning at the desperation in his father's voice, he turned, but found only mist. Legolas peered over his shoulder at the bridge. His father could not walk it with him. His heart whispered this with certainty, and he turned back toward the bridge.
"Stay, Las-nin! Do not yet depart! I am coming! Tarry a while longer! I am coming, Las-nin! Wait for me! I am coming!"
The prince halted again, wavering. The pull of waiting arms was strong. He would not long be able to resist, nor did he wish to. A yearning had sprung up in his heart, growing stronger with each beat. He needed to cross the bridge and enter into the welcoming embrace that awaited him.
"I am coming, Las-nin! Wait for me! I am coming! Do not yet depart! I am coming!"
Legolas forcibly turned his back to the bridge and dropped down to sit cross-legged upon the path. He could not refuse his father thus. He would do as Thranduil bid and tarry a while longer.
OOOOOOOOOOOO
Baelorn eyed his suddenly agreeable father-in-law warily as they entered the town of Men, at least until the wafting scent of freshly baked bread reached his nose and triggered a rumbling growl from his long neglected stomach. His head turned of its own accord toward the nearby tavern from whence came the mouth-watering aroma. The king laughed – an unexpected sound that recaptured Baelorn's attention.
"Off with you," Thranduil bade, reaching for Baelorn's reins. "Tend to your stomach. I will see to the horses."
Baelorn hesitated. Their need for food and rest was plain, yet Thranduil's abrupt willingness to spare the time unnerved him.
"Go on," the King shooed. "Await me at the tavern."
Baelorn dismounted tentatively and relinquished his reins. Returning Thranduil's nod of farewell, he watched with a frown, as the King disappeared into the bustle. His father-in-law was up to something. Baelorn was certain of it.
Better to ponder his mind over a meal, the elf decided, as the breeze again carried the scent of warm bread to his nose.
Baelorn's stomach, though, soon demanded his full attention. All pondering postponed, he sat himself upon a sun-warmed bench outside the tavern with a loaf and honey and a questionable flagon of wine. The bread disappeared quickly, though the wine did not, and he soon found himself relaxed against the tavern wall, pondering Thranduil's mood.
He has been long in tending to the horses. Perhaps I should go in search of him. But the thought slipped away as the warm sun on his face and his full stomach lulled him toward the sleep his over-weary body greatly desired.
Well, he did bid me to await him here, he reminded himself, as he wandered into dreams.
"Baelorn!" Thranduil's hand grasping his shoulder prevented Baelorn from toppling off the bench as he started awake. The king smiled. "You have eaten well and rested, I see. Good! Let us be off at once."
Not yet fully freed of sleepy haze, Baelorn stared at him blankly for a brief second, before registering the two strange, fresh elven horses that stood nearby, attached to the reins held in the king's hand.
"Our horses…?"
"Will be well rested for the return journey," Thranduil finished, pulling Baelorn to his feet and prodding the elf toward one of the borrowed animals. "Now, we must make haste! Legolas tarries, but he will not do so long."
Baelorn's brow furrowed with bemusement as he mounted, but there was no opportunity for questions. No sooner had his foot touched the stirrup, than Thranduil was mounted and weaving his way through the bustle and out of the town. He kicked the beast into a run the moment his path was clear, and Baelorn was hard-pressed to stay within earshot of the king's renewed muttering.
OOOOOOOOOOOO
With most of the baggage securely stowed, Elladan gathered up the two bundles he'd set aside and turned back toward camp to retrieve his share of the blankets.
"Here, little brother," he offered, crouching beside Aragorn and passing the ranger a dry tunic and cloak. Raindrops hissed in dwindling fire beside him, provoking a scowl from the elf. "I fear they will not be dry long, but they will be warmer than naught, all the same."
Aragorn shrugged reluctantly out of the blankets wrapped snuggly around his shoulders. Pulling the dry tunic over his head, he hungrily eyed the remaining bundle in his brother's hands.
"It is indeed breakfast," Elladan confirmed, with an impudent grin. "You may as well fill your stomach while you sit warming yourself by the fire and watching us do all work."
Aragorn grinned sheepishly. Swiftly wrapping the dry cloak around his shoulders, he reached eagerly for the bundle.
"Bread and cheese…is that all?
Elladan laughed merrily as a childish pout planted itself upon the young man's face.
"We are less than a full day's ride from home, Estel. Be glad that we troubled to bring any food with us. Now, tuck in, or I will give your share to Legolas when he wakes."
OOOOOOOOOOOO
Tension surged through Elrond's stalwart frame as he peered at the white ship before him. Instinct urged him to flee back into the safety of the waking world.
But if it is a vision, not a dream, then I must see it through to its end if I am to understand its meaning, logic demanded, forcing him to stay, and Elrond's muscles quivered in complaint as reason and instinct battled for mastery. Soon, though, they trembled with trepidation as his gaze fell upon a familiar form standing upon the deck of the white ship.u
Elrond reflexively smiled as Elros grinned at him, but the expression faded quickly. A shiver of apprehension running along his spine, he twisted around to search for his children, determined that this time they would not be left standing on the shore. They were nowhere to be found, though, leaving Elrond uncertain. His stomach twisted anxiously, fearing he would find himself standing upon the white ship if he turned back. Yet reason reminded that he must turn back for the vision to proceed.
Elrond closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and warily turned. He opened them again tentatively and, finding the white ship before him, sighed in relief. Elros still stood upon the deck, a grin upon his face, but his attention was no longer focused on Elrond. His arms held wide in welcome, Elros faced the boarding ladder.
Foreboding surged through Elrond as he shifted his gaze and sought the boarder. He found Legolas, a step away from reaching for the bottom rung, and certainty washed through him that the prince would be forever lost to the Eldar if his fingers grasped the white wood. His stomach dropping, Elrond lurched forward to stop the wood-elf, but as before, he found his feet would not move.
"Nay, Legolas! Stay! Do not depart!"
OOOOOOOOOOOO
A hand of swirling mist shot out toward Legolas. Closing on the space vacated as he lurched back, the wispy fingers dissolved, but the main mass advanced, swallowing up the path Legolas had trodden. He struggled in vain to catch his quickening breath as the mist pressed in on him. There was a mounting tension within it - fear, perhaps…or anger. Legolas knew not, but it stole the air from his lungs.
He inched back. The mist quickly devoured the emptied space. Rising to his feet, Legolas peered over his shoulder. The bridge was still clear, but the swirling mass beneath it was rising, threatening to swallow it, as well. Soon, there would be no escape. He would be lost, alone in swirling nothingness!
Still, he fought the urge to spin on his heels and race across the bridge.
"I cannot! Ada bid me wait for him. I must linger. I must!"
His resolve faltered, though, even as he spoke the words aloud, and his feet inched backward.
"Ada is coming! I must wait for him! I must wait!" he gasped, in a breathless whisper, as his heart sped faster and faster until his lungs could no longer keep pace. Finally unable to loose the breath caught in his throat, Legolas woke with a violent start.
OOOOOOOOOOOO
His feet suddenly free, Elrond fell forward and landed, sprawled on hands and knees, before the bench he'd been resting on in the Hall of Fire. He pushed himself up with a soft groan and sat back on his heels to stare into the gentle flames.
"Have you injured yourself?" came a soft inquiry from the doorway, and Elrond turned to see Glorfindel watching him, his blue-grey eyes large with worry. Elrond smiled distractedly and eased himself back onto the bench.
"Nay, I have not," he assured, inviting the elf lord to join him.
Glorfindel lingered a moment longer in the entrance and studied his friend, before strolling over. He didn't take his place upon the bench, though. He was filled with too much anxious energy to sit still.
"Another vision?" he queried, though he was already certain of the answer.
"Indeed, but I little know what to make of it," Elrond confirmed, wearily. "Ai, my friend…."
"Nay, do not lose heart, son of Eärendil," Glorfindel soothed. He laid a comforting hand upon his friend's shoulder. "There is still hope the young ones will return to us unscathed."
Elrond heard something odd his friend's tone and quirked an eyebrow at him. Glorfindel chuckled lightly.
"Indeed, my friend, I have thought to come to the aid of hope and ride out in search of our lost ones," the elf lord announced, before bowing his head, demurely. "By your leave, of course."
Elrond smiled wryly and nodded his consent.
Glorfindel grinned reassuringly and gave his friend's shoulder a final pat, before excusing himself. He paused a moment as he reached the doorway. Glancing over his shoulder, he grinned cheekily. "Fear not! The whole lot of us will be mucking mud through your halls, bellowing for food and wine and warm baths before you know it."
Elrond chuckled as he watched the golden-haired lord disappear out the door, but then his expression dimmed.
Yet another wanderer to worry over… He sighed deeply. Turning back to stare morosely into the fire, he bade, May it be the will of the Valar that you bring them home safe and whole, but do not forget to return safe and whole yourself, my friend.
OOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOO
His breath freed by the sudden jolt, Legolas's lungs greedily sucked in fresh air. He closed his eyed and focused on his surroundings, hoping to slow his breathing and calm his heart. Not far away, soft voices hummed. Overhead, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves. Rain pattered softly on the ground beside him. The sounds seemed surreal after the smothering nothingness of his dreams.
Perhaps this is the dream, and I'll wake to naught but mist, Legolas mused, sending an apprehensive tickle shuddering through him. His breath beginning again to quicken, he prised open heavy, reluctant eyes. They found bright leaves of spring dancing overhead in the pale light of a cloudy dawn. Legolas smiled wanly in relief.
"We are less than a full day's ride from home, Estel. Be glad that we troubled to bring any food with us. Now, tuck in, or I'll give your share to Legolas when he wakes," came Elladan's merry voice, wafting on the morning breeze.
Laughter from both twins signaled that Aragorn had made a face, and Legolas grinned. He turned his head, hoping to catch a glimpse of it, but his eyes met only the mass of blankets enveloping him. He rose onto his elbows and hissed under his breath as his shoulder abruptly reminded him of its previous dislocation.
"Easy there," Elrohir chided, slipping an arm beneath the wood-elf's back and easing out him of his nest. Settling the prince against the fallen log, the twin's hand lingered until he was certain Legolas was steady. "It does my heart good to see a smile upon your face, my friend."
"A good night's rest goes far in reviving the spirit," Legolas replied breathlessly.
"Indeed, you are looking much improved," lied the twin.
His voice was light and cheery and his expression bright, but Legolas didn't miss the apprehension in his eyes. They were but a few hours from Imladris, yet Elrohir feared he would not last so far. Legolas closed his eyes and gathered himself. Opening them again, he grinned wryly and nodded his head toward a bundle in the twin's hands.
"I see I will not have to steal Estel's portion, after all."
Elrohir chuckled, "Indeed, little one, you shall not, but first…"
He offered a clean tunic, which Legolas gladly accepted. The wood-elf's arms protested, though, as he attempted to pull it over his head. Letting them drop weakly back into the blanket, he frowned at the twin. Elrohir smiled sympathetically and slipped the tunic out of Legolas's fingers. Biting his lip more from wounded pride than stiffness, he allowed the twin to help him dress. Elrohir backed away once he had pulled the tunic over the prince's head, leaving Legolas to finish on his own.
"My thanks to you," the prince murmured, once he was comfortably settled again. The twin bobbed his head in acknowledgment, before handing over the bread and cheese. Wearied from the effort of dressing, Legolas offered only a weak smile in exchange and set to, tearing off a piece of bread and nibbling half-heartedly.
Elrohir watched for a moment, and then turned to gather up Legolas's nest. His gaze wandered back often as he rolled up the blankets, and slowly a grin spread across his face. The rain that had peppered the rest of their small camp was only now finding its way onto the prince's bed, and not a drop had yet landed upon Legolas himself. Elrohir turned his head and gazed into the branches overhead, seeking to confirm a sudden suspicion. His smile widened. The leaves were twisting this way and that, deflecting every drop away from 'their' beloved wood-elf.
Rising to add the blanket rolls to the luggage, Elrohir strolled over to his twin and whispered, "I will ride with Legolas."
Hearing something odd – almost mischievous - in his brother's voice, Elladan quirked a brow. But as Elrohir quickly schooled his features into the gravest of expression; his twin nodded, silently chiding himself for his suspicion.
Please, Mandos, do not claim him while he's in my brother's arms, Elladan prayed, as Elrohir moved off.
OOOOOOOOOOOO*~
Thranduil's mantra faded as the grasslands gave way to scattered birches and pines. Some small portion of his weary, preoccupied brain registered the significance.
'…the mountains draw near…not much farther now, my Leaf…nearly there…'
Thranduil's heart reached out for Legolas. Surely now he was close enough to again feel his son's light within him! The Elvenking nearly wailed in despair when he found naught but the emptiness that had become so sickening familiar.
Nay! Nay, it cannot be! His mind screamed. I am so close now…so very close….
Thranduil's grip tightened upon the reins as his fear and frustration escalated. He had been certain, despite his earlier despair, that he would feel Legolas once the distance separating them had closed somewhat. With desperate determination, Thranduil focused his spirit and drove heart and mind up into the mountains and over to the halls of Imladris, but to no avail.
He is there! He waits for me! I am certain of it! Some one – some presence both familiar and alien – whispered it on the wind in a voice that his soul trusted wholly. The king closed his eyes as swelling waves of perplexity pounded against his skull. How can I know this when I cannot feel him…?
Yet he did know, absolutely.
"Legolas is there. He heeds his ada; he waits for you, but he will not tarry long…,'' the voice on the wind whispered with conviction.
Opening his eyes, Thranduil prodded his horse to move faster.
OOOOOOOOOOOO*~
Legolas's chest grew tight as the mist pressed in from three directions. Only to his rear – only upon the bridge - did the path remain clear. Instinctively, his left foot stepped back toward safety; the other lifted to follow…but it was set back down again in place.
Nay! I must wait for Ada! I must! Legolas ground out through gritted teeth.
The mist heeded him not. It seemed it was not content in swallowing wholly the path he had trodden, but was bent upon consuming him, as well. Legolas struggled to control his surging panic.
You must not let fear be your master! Calm yourself; think! He commanded, and obediently his mind latched upon a hopeful thought. The path was veiled before, was it not? Yet it was there all along, beneath my feet. I had only to tread upon it…
He forced an unwilling foot forward, and a fresh jolt of panic shot through him, stopping his breath and nearly his heart. The path did not appear, and the mist did not retreat. Instead it pressed against him with a force that belied its ethereal appearance.
Legolas gasped; intent upon drawing in air that would not come. His knees gave way beneath him and hit the ground with a thud that freed his breath. He barely spared the moment for a first gasp before attempting to push himself back to his feet. But even as his hands touched the ground, tendrils of mist slithered out of the ravine and wrapped around his limbs. Terror overrode all thought, and Legolas thrashed wildly against his captor. His heart pounded against his chest as though it might burst free. His breath came in frantic gasps. His mind began a spinning descent into darkness…and then, abruptly, the vine released him and the mist dissolved back into intangible wisps of nothingness.
Collapsing onto his hands, Legolas rested while his lungs eagerly refilled themselves. Then, tentatively, he rose unsteadily to his feet. The mist remained as it was. He inched a cautious foot forward, but the mist promptly thickened. New tendrils sprang up from the ravine and danced around his ankles as if in warning.
You have made your point, Legolas snarled, frustration giving way to anger and briefly conquering fear. He pulled his foot back, petulantly, and slid it instead behind him, toward the bridge. The tendrils retreated, but the wall of mist remained solid. He inched back with the other foot, and the ground immediately around him cleared. Glancing down, Legolas sought the path and realized that he had stepped upon the bridge…and anger melted into dismay.
Wailing in despair, he tried to step off again, but vines of mist slithered up from beneath the bridge. Legolas struggled against them as they coiled about his ankles, but they were stalwart, and he was spent. His strength giving out, Legolas dropped and curled in on himself, tears of frustration rolling down his cheeks.
"Nay! I will not go!" he cried out in defiance, yet there was an edge of despondency.
Be at ease, young one. You struggle for naught. There is no enemy here; there is nothing to fear, soothed a now familiar voice. But you cannot linger here.
"Nay!" Legolas answered Elros beseechingly. "I must wait for Ada!"
Your Adar cannot accompany you on this journey, young one. You must walk the path alone, but you need not remain alone. I am waiting for you, and here you shall find peace; you need only seek it. You need only continue the journey.
Legolas's heart whispered that there was truth in the words. Behind him, peace radiated from the bridge, and in his mind's eye he could still see the partially shrouded form that stood with arms outstretched in welcome. The pull of those arms was strong, increasing with each beat of his heart. He needed to cross the bridge, to be enveloped in the comfort that awaited him…and yet there was something ominous and alarming in the desperation of that very yearning.
Then there was the mist. It veiled something – something that was afraid or angry. He knew not which, but the feeling loomed over him like a malevolent shadow that warned him not to trust in the peace Elros promised.
"Nay! I will not listen," Legolas cried, sitting up and shaking his head mulishly. "You are naught but a phantom of darkness that seeks to deceive me! I will not heed your words. I will attend ada! I will wait for him!"
His defiance was met only with silence, yet even that had a menacing feel to it. Drawing his knees up to his chest, Legolas buried his head in his arms as though they might shield him from it.
"Must wait...must wait…," he murmured, rocking back and forth fretfully.
OOOOOOOOOOOO*~