Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings and all its characters and sceneries belongs to JRR Tolkien.
VI – OBSTACLES
When it is dark enough, you can see the stars.
Charles A. Beard
Legolas had faced conflicts before. Terrible battles, hostile opponents. Nevertheless, these orcs were fighting as he'd never seen a group of them fight before. Their number was four times greater than the twins' group, all of them well-armed, well-organized. In fact, they didn't seem like an ordinary group of orcs. Therefore, Elladan and Elrohir's friends struggled hard, facing the enemy with courage and determination.
At one time during the heat of the battle, Legolas found himself back to back with Elrohir. The younger twin was dueling with two adversaries at the same time, moving his sword with the mastery of the old fighters, while Legolas was trying to hold off the blows of an enormous orc, whose fat body was disfigured and clumsy, but was compensated with strong and heavy arms. The prince was almost on his knees.
"Do you need a little help there, mellon nîn?" he heard Elrohir ask in a teasing tone. He just had time to wonder how the dark-haired elf could show such a playful spirit during such a serious situation, when the orc in front of him suddenly lost his head. In fact, in a single circular movement of his sword, the captain of Imladris rid three enemies of their heads, ending their lives.
Legolas couldn't hide his surprise, which must have been completely visible because the twin just laughed. The prince first frowned, but then smiled.
"Watch your neck, green elfling," provoked the captain elf, moving away, already setting his sights on another enemy.
And that was exactly what Legolas had to do, because the enemy continued coming as if they were burgeoning from the soil. That fact mystified him. The last few battles he'd been in, with his own patrol and now with this one, the number of orcs was completely unexpected. These attacks didn't resemble the others the elves usually suffered in dangerous areas.
And this place wasn't supposed to be a dangerous area…
"Ainion. Watch out!" he heard a familiar voice say, but the enemy who came from behind him with a bloody scimitar was already crying in pain. The orc's hand was now stuck to the trunk of a narrow tree with an arrow piercing his wrist. Legolas finished the creature's agony with a precise cut just below his chin, but when he searched for his savior, he only saw the older twin, stepping through enemy bodies whilst killing another orc using an arrow as a sword.
Legolas dropped his shoulders with a small smile. It hadn't taken long for Elladan to repay his favor.
However, the last enemy to fall on the ground, as were many others in that conflict, was killed by Legolas' hand. It was an enormous and deformed orc, whose speech was incomprehensible even to he who had studied all languages of Middle-Earth, including some things pertaining to the secret and prohibited Dark-Language. The big creature had hit his adversary on the head with the hilt of his weapon, but couldn't finish his task because the blond prince's dagger was now embedded in his back.
When the big orc fell, Legolas rushed to help the elf, who was already trying to sit, shaking his head dizzily.
"Are you all right?" he asked, crouched beside him.
"Yes… Thanks…" the warrior answered, looking around.
Legolas did the same. None of them had noticed until this minute that the conflict was finally over. The feeling of anger they all had was soon replaced by a strange restlessness. There was only silence and cold reality. It was then that the other elf's eyes widened. Legolas' attention was drawn in the same direction, and he saw what worried the patrol soldier so much: Elladan was on his knees, in front of a fallen elf whose injuries seemed severe.
"Hérion…No…" Legolas heard the elf near him say, before trying to rise again. Other members of the patrol were already running in that direction, including Elrohir. When Legolas and the elf managed to get there, what they heard was not encouraging.
"Come on, Hérion! Come on, breathe!" Elladan's desperate tone was the last thing the group expected to hear after such a conflict. He had already added salts and herbs to the big wound the elf had and now rested both hands on his patient's bleeding chest, trying to use his remaining energy to save his friend. It was a dire situation and everything he could think to do as a healer seemed to not be effective. Elrohir quickly knelt beside him and wrapped his brother with both arms, realizing Elladan's futile hope.
"Leave him, Dan."
"No."
"Let him go!" Elrohir shook his brother a little. "Don't spend your last energy on him. He breathes no more, toron nîn," he said, looking sadly at the fallen warrior's dull eyes. "Mandos already receives him at his doorstep."
Elladan shook his head vigorously, still focused, but around the brothers, all the patrol members started to show their particular reaction to that truth. Some called their friend's name, others started to silently weep. Only Elrohir continued to concentrate on his brother, seeming worried about something more.
"Dan… Stop… Stop, toron…" he said in a choking voice.
Elladan shook his head again, but soon he dropped his shoulders, visibly fatigued. His lips parted, trying to control his breathing, but then his body trembled and he covered his face with both bloodstained hands. Elrohir strengthened his embrace, but his eyes were also full of tears.
Legolas felt their pain as if he were also a member of the group. Standing behind them, he just couldn't take his eyes off the scene. Hérion had his eyes partly open, but there was no light in them anymore. It was a sad image, a sad image he had already seen more frequently than any warrior should, that any leader should. He knew he had to learn to deal with this, but, as he could see in the older and more experienced twins, it probably would take considerable time for any warrior to learn how to face such an opponent.
Legolas lowered his eyes, trying to understand why a strange sensation of urgency was still filling his heart. The battle was over, yet that insistent feeling hadn't left him.
That feeling of urgency… that cold dread.
Legolas looked again at that warrior's motionless body, and when he did, something happened. His vision, that terrible vision, returned…
He saw himself in the same place, standing on the same ground. There was, though, a perceptible difference: Only one body was left of all those ones he had seen before. One dead body: Hérion's body. Legolas felt a terrible chill of seeing him there, alone in that lonely place. He walked to him slowly, but when he was close, Hérion suddenly opened his eyes.
"Help me!" he said.
"Elbereth," Legolas fell on his knees, next to Elrohir.
"Ainion!" Elrohir immediately held him. "What happened?"
Elladan also looked at him worriedly, and he instinctively reached out to hold Legolas' wrist.
When he felt the healer's touch, Legolas moved his eyes toward him. He didn't know why he did what he did next, whether it was because he was still feeling as if he were in some kind of dream or for some other strange reason, but a stubborn idea made him ask for something that seemed impossible.
"Save him, please… He is not gone."
Elladan's eyebrows met in a frown for a moment, then he turned, confused, to his patient. He did not understand what the forest archer meant, for he no longer felt any life in this body. He launched a disbelieving look at Legolas, but the archer's eyes, clear as a river on a summer afternoon, were fixed on Hérion, as if already waiting for something only he believed possible.
"Do not give up, Dan," Elladan heard Legolas ask, this time without even looking at him. The archer's soft voice sounded to the healer as if it had come from within his own mind, as if it were his own voice and he wasn't even surprised by Ainion calling him by a nickname only his brother used. The twin parted his lips, stunned, but the strange feeling slowly disappeared, turning into a great and inexplicable certainty. He then turned to the wounded soldier, placing both hands over his friend's heart, but this time, forgetting herbs and salts and concentrating only with his own healing energy.
"Dan…" Elrohir said, alarmed. He frowned when saw his brother's intention to try something that seemed impossible, especially with no element of nature to help him. "Dan… What are you doing?"
The elder twin did not answer, but the soft light of his hands glowed brighter. He closed his eyes and that new potent light soon illuminated all of his body. The other elves moved speechlessly one step back, only Elrohir and Legolas, even though they were as surprised as the others, stayed where they were near the healer.
Elladan squeezed his eyes shut, concentrating that new energy as if knowing exactly what to do. However, mentally he was calling on someone who was not there, but whom he really needed at that moment, to help him find the right way to do what he had to do.
And as all of his requests to that important person, this one wasn't denied either. Elladan felt the presence he needed, and a voice sounded inside his mind, patient and strong as ever.
"The power is in your hands, ion nîn. It emanates from the strength of your spirit of healing. Do not be afraid to use it ... I'm with you ... You have all my love."
"Ada..." He parted his lips and the word escaped him, making Elrohir tremble by his side, even without knowing the reason. Hérion's eyes suddenly regained their lost brightness and the impossible became true: his chest began the welcome movement of breathing.
"For Ilúvatar's grace!" a voice exclaimed among the others.
"He lives!" another one gladly announced.
And other sounds of joy were heard before Elladan finally moved his hands away from his patient. But all color suddenly drained from the healer's face and before saying anything his body fell like a dry leaf into his brother's arms. Everyone immediately closed in on the brothers.
"Toron..." Elladan's voice sounded weak.
"Don't worry, Dan," Elrohir muttered apprehensively, helping his twin to lean on him. "I'm here... Everything will be fine. You... You did it. He is back... He is fine... The bleeding has stopped."
"Ro… Help him... His wound… it still needs care…" Elladan tried to say, doing his best to keep his eyes open.
Elrohir nodded, but soon realized Ainion was at the side of the fallen warrior putting other herbs and a bandage on the wound.
Elladan smiled, grateful and amazed to know this archer's new skill, performing the task as if he were a healer.
"You are very... efficient... Ainion," he said, and Legolas smiled shyly.
"We always have many wounded... unfortunately…" he explained, and the older twin nodded, then closed his eyes and leaned his face against his brother's chest. Legolas was concerned to see the healer's body relax with his brightness reduced considerably. He looked then to Elrohir, but the twin just sighed, placing his palm on his brother's face.
"He's fine, Ainion," he assured, but the tone of his voice was insecure and he also seemed shaken by the experience. Legolas believed him anyway, even without any proof it was true. He knew the two brothers were as one in some circumstances.
Elrohir looked at the other elves then, and he didn't have to say a word for them to know what they had to do. The soldiers spread themselves through the camp, some already dealing with the enemies' bodies, others still watching for any other unexpected event. Elrohir looked again to Legolas, who continued focusing apprehensive eyes on Elladan. "He will be well soon. He exceeded his limits and has no energy left..." He then looked uneasily at his brother and admitted: "I have never seen him do this… In fact I didn't even know he could…"
Legolas drew his lips into a thin line, but did not make any comment. Elrohir took a deep breath then. He looked at his soldiers, as if trying to be sure everything was well, and then he also closed his eyes. Legolas was intrigued and became even more intrigued when he noticed that the dark-haired elf's light started to fade slightly. The younger twin tipped his face towards his brother and his weak glow danced as a perfect wave over him and Elladan. Soon both twins had the same brightness as they had before.
"Ilúvatar..." The prince couldn't hold in his surprise, feeling his jaw drop in awe at that scene of courage and selflessness. Sharing his vital energy was something Legolas had heard an elf could do in extreme circumstances. But his masters had told him that most of them wouldn't do it even in that case, because giving himself that way could be dangerous, as one could never be certain how much of his energy he could offer without putting himself at risk.
But Elrohir opened his bright gray eyes again, and he seemed to know exactly what he was doing as if nothing had changed. He looked once more to Hérion, to Elladan, who moved gently in his arms, but did not wake; and then smiled at the amazed archer in front of him.
"We are grateful to you, Ainion," he said.
"But... I did nothing," Legolas replied, confused, his lips parted in wonder.
Elrohir lowered his head, clutching his brother a little more tightly in his arms. "I don't know what you did…" he said, moving his eyes to him again. "What you both did…" he added. "But my friend is alive… And that is priceless."
Legolas finally fell silent, seeing Elrohir look at Elladan again. In that moment he didn't seem the strong captain he was, the formidable warrior at whose side he had fought. He only seemed a simple elf, worried, but also extremely amazed by his older brother.
Legolas' lips rose in a small smile, and he didn't make any other comment. To him that moment was too sacred to be interrupted by anything he might say. He sighed then and looked around. It was then that another thought came to him, almost as violent as a storm. He stood up immediately, looking all around him.
"What's wrong?" Elrohir asked, alerted by the archer's attitude.
"I must leave you alone for a moment, Elrohir," Legolas said, trying to hide his uneasiness. "I need to look for Thavanian."
That startled the twin, and he began looking around attentively.
"Valar, where is he?" he asked as if to himself. "He was of a great help to me once in the battle...," he said in a worried tone, as his eyes continued searching the perimeter. He started to get up, but then looked at his brother in his arms, whose eyes were still closed, and he hesitated.
"Don't worry. I'll look for him," Legolas said as if reading his thoughts.
Legolas didn't wait for an answer. He was worried about his friend. He walked across the field, looking every place he could think to look. Only now, making his way through the camp, did he notice that some of the elves of the patrol were also wounded. However, bruises and cuts did not stop any of them from being occupied with some task now. They had to remove the bodies of the orcs before they started attracting other problems. Legolas drew near to two soldiers who were relighting the fire, and one of them was the elf he had helped at the end of the conflict. He raised his eyebrows when he saw the archer.
"I'd like to thank you for your help, soldier," he promptly said, placing a hand over his heart. "I am Laston and I am in debt to you."
Legolas was surprised by those unexpected words. He just mirrored the gesture, slightly shaking his head.
"I am glad I could be of some help after all your group has done for me," he answered, and both warriors also shook their heads, showing him that his words weren't necessary. But Legolas was too worried to spend more time with diplomatic speeches. "I am sorry for interrupting you, but I am looking for my captain. Have any of you seen him?"
"The blonde elf like you?" the other elf asked, already frowning and looking around. Legolas had recognized him from Elladan's last introduction. He was the one called Angahor. The prince just nodded, already displeased with the fact nobody seemed to have seen his friend. This was not a good sign.
"We haven't seen him, soldier," Laston said in sympathetic tone. "But if you wait for a moment, I'll help you find him." He threw a glance to his companion again, and Legolas did not like the meaning he saw in their exchange. He knew what those two elves where concluding from the sudden disappearance of his bodyguard.
Angahor seemed to have noticed their tactlessness, because he moved his eyes to another couple of elves, who were piling the orcs' dead bodies, and called them with a particular tone of leadership: "Earon! Varyar! Have you seen the other forest elf?"
Both elves looked all around them, and then they answered with negative shakes of their heads.
"Call Cúndur to go with you and look for him in the immediate area."
The warriors agreed and moved away without hesitation.
"Thank you, sir…" Legolas said, already doing the same. He didn't like the way that elf treated the others, and by the air on Laston's face, he wasn't the only one. However, he was not the best captain to judge others. Second in command was the way Elladan had described Angahor. With a captain such as Elrohir, he still didn't understand why the group needed a second.
As the three elves had taken the northern direction, climbing steep slopes to see if there was some sign of Thavanian in the distance, Legolas decided to take the opposite path, which was scattered with small bushes nestled between rocks and boulders. He had already lived troubled times before, but nothing compared with his latest days. Even his visions were the most powerful ones he had ever had. All he wanted was to be himself again, to have his energy back, but he knew it would take time for him to be able to trust himself again. He felt tired and weak and the last battle didn't help him to feel better. At least his terrible visions ended in a different way. Impossible as it seemed...
To end this day in a good way would only happen if he was able to find his friend. His heart was terribly worried about Thavanian. He was a good warrior, one of the best. He could have been promoted, having his own patrol to lead. Legolas knew Thavanian hadn't been blessed with a better position, because he had been chosen as the prince's bodyguard. That was not fair. Now he was lost here, maybe wounded, maybe worse than that. Where was he?
"Come on, Thavanian…" he told himself. "Come on… Where are you?"
He had already walked some good meters away from the camp. Soon the night would fall, so he didn't have much time to look around. The entire region was strangely silent, maybe because the day was ending. Only the nocturnal creatures' sounds were starting to be heard. Legolas narrowed his eyes, scanning the landscape ahead, looking at everything, listening for sounds. The only suspect region was a group of large rocks, the nearest place that could hide some information from his eyes. They were crowded into almost a semi-circle. They seemed to form a suspicious place that would make a very opportune hideout. All the rest of the landscape was open and clear enough to be analyzed from a distance with no impediment.
Legolas hid behind some brush for a moment, one of his daggers in his hand. He had lost the other one in the conflict and hadn't had time to find it yet. He stayed quiet, trying to listen for clues, but there was no sound. He had reason to be worried, reason to distrust this place. Nevertheless he continued getting closer, darting in and out of cover. Besides not being used to this kind of landscape, as he had never left the forest before, he still was a Silvan elf, and he knew better than anyone how to hide among leaves, even behind small, young trees. The problem was that, if the enemy were anywhere near, he would not be able to hide himself, he would have to fight.
With all these contradictory and worrying thoughts in mind, Legolas passed between two large rocks, going inside the gathering of boulders. Once past what seemed to be an entrance, he encountered five more very large rocks, put side by side by Mother Nature as if they were old friends in a silent conspiracy. Legolas craned his neck to try to better see amongst the nooks and spaces around them.
It was then that he saw something: an indication of someone's presence. From where he stood, he could not understand what kind of movement he was seeing, so he drew closer, his body slightly bent, crouching behind one of the rocks. Finally he could perceive that there was really someone fallen there. He could only see the person's leg but it was enough for him to conclude he had found his friend.
Legolas' first impulse was run to Thavanian, but his warrior instincts spoke louder and he decided to be more careful. He slipped through the rocks, coming closer and trying to discover what kind of news, bad or good, was waiting for him on the other side. Thavanian was lying on his side, his arms were behind his back, maybe tied, he couldn't tell. His friend had his eyes shut. Legolas observed his figure attentively, looking for any kind of wound; but curled as Thavanian was it was hard to see if he was really unconscious. Otherwise, the elf was breathing; that was a positive sign.
Legolas tried to get closer and, this time, his small movement was noticeable. Thavanian opened his eyes and looked exactly in his direction. Legolas raised his eyebrows in surprise, but soon the seriousness on his friend's face worried him. Thavanian's eyes traveled from him to another direction Legolas could not see, but the action was meaningful enough to him.
They were not alone. The battle wasn't over yet.
Legolas backed up some, wondering what he should do. He analyzed the rocks around him and decided to go a different way. He found a path he was able to climb and, putting foot by foot in the hard grooves of the rock, he managed to reach a place where he could see his new battlefield from another perspective.
Once he was in place, the sight that was waiting for his eyes wasn't exactly the one he expected. All he could see was his friend, lying alone on that dirty ground. Legolas looked around again, but there was no visible enemy.
A trap. It was a trap, his heart cried to him. For some reason, he was discovered, and the enemy was waiting for him to come help his friend, so that they could finish their task. It was that, or it was something even worse.
Legolas breathed deeply. He had no alternative than to go back and get some help. That was what his mind was advising him to do, while he made his way to lower ground. When he put his feet on the surface, however, he leaned on one of those rocks, feeling his heart vehemently disagree with that plan. If he did that he might not return to find his friend still alive. That reason was strong enough to make him try to think of a second plan. Or act with no plan at all.
"Ahhh!" he suddenly heard his friend's cry of pain, and the alarming sound put him on guard immediately. The next sentence, however, caused him to pause. "Ainion, go away!"
It was too late. Two orcs had already found him. They weren't big and clumsy as some of the other ones he faced at the camp, they were smaller and faster. One of them had an enormous scimitar in his hand. The other held a knife.
Legolas raised his dagger, keeping his legs apart for balance and already awaiting the enemy attacks. But the orcs just kept moving around him, trying to confuse him, to ruin his concentration. Behind those rocks another cry of pain came, giving the enemies a disgusting laugh.
Another orc had stayed behind, just to torture Thavanian, Legolas concluded. He had once thought orcs to be stupid creatures, but lately he had been forced to change his mind. Another cry of pain almost made Legolas react impulsively. Elbereth, he wanted to take those creatures' heads off with his own hands.
"Stop!" he cried.
The orcs laughed again.
"Stop?" one of them provoked, still moving around the prince. "But it is so funny. I love seeing one of the Beautiful People cry. They do cry beautifully, don't they, Albashy?" he asked the other orc, who just laughed again and grunted his agreement.
Legolas frowned, observing the strange movement of the enemies surrounding him. Why had they not attacked him yet? What were they waiting for? A disturbing idea came then to his mind.
"What do you want? Why are you doing this?"
The orc smiled, and if Legolas had seen something more repulsive in his lifetime, the image of those dark and dirty teeth made him forget it. But his expression of incomprehension must have had a different meaning to the creature, because he just laughed once more.
Another cry, this time louder than the others came and finally he heard Thavanian call him again. "Ainion!"
"I'm here!" he couldn't help answering. "Hold on! I'm coming!"
"Leave…" Thavanian answered, before his last word was swallowed into another scream.
Legolas held his dagger tighter and had to control himself to not jump in amongst those horrendous orcs.
"What do you want?" he asked again.
"What do we want? We want you, princeling. We will take you for a ride, but I am sure there will be no problem if we have some fun with you before our trip."
Legolas frowned, lowering his weapon a bit. What had he called him?
"Yes, yes, princeling… We know you… Thranduil's little baby has grown into a mediocre creature… Poor King of the Forest Halls… What could he expect when coupling with a lower she-elf?"
Those words were so surprising to Legolas that, when a third orc grabbed him from behind he had no chance to defend himself. The orc in front of him started beating him mercilessly, pounding him with blows to the face and body. He still managed to kick the enemy away, but soon another one was in his place, beating him with double the force.
"Yes, we all know you well," the other orc told him between his blows. "Our master offered a good price for you. Dead or alive. He prefers talking to you before killing you, but if necessary, we are allowed to see your half-breed blood spill. It would please me greatly if you continued giving me reasons to beat you."
Legolas closed his eyes, the shock of this unexpected news finally giving way to his instincts for survival. Trying to gather his energy, he suddenly lunged forward, forcing the orc in front of him against the rock at his back. The startled creature loosened his hold and Legolas managed to dance away. He feinted, escaping two other blows, until he took up a big stone from the ground and threw it precisely, managing to knock one of his enemies out with it.
Legolas frantically searched for his weapon on the ground, but couldn't see it anywhere. Even so he managed to hit the first orc when he came close enough to him and escaped a very dangerous attack of the other one's weapon, when something unexpected happened, stopping him at once; it was something that was not exactly what he wanted to see. Standing before him and keeping his knife menacingly close to Thavanian's throat, was the opponent he hadn't seen yet.
"Damn elf," the creature said indignantly. He was a big orc with an old great scar on his face, maybe from the same wound that had taken out his left eye as well, leaving a ghastly hole in its place. But even watching the scene with a single eye he seemed unhappy to see what the prince had done with his companions. The other orcs came closer and one of them punched Legolas brutally in the stomach.
"I should kill you, you bastard!" he said.
"Enough," the bigger orc said. "He is our master's prize. You have already hit him enough."
Legolas was still recovering from the blow, when he heard Thavanian's weak voice. "Let him go… He is not… the one you are looking for."
The orc twisted his face into a grimace, as if just hearing the elf's voice was sickening him. "You are not the one we are looking for," he said at Thavanian's ear. "Do not dare to lie to us anymore, principally now that we have your lovely prince and we can kill you anytime we want to. You should just be silent if you don't want me to test how deep your wound is again," he said, ending his treating, bringing the knife he held closer to Thavanian's throat again. The other orcs had their weapons raised as well.
"Don't!" Legolas said, holding his hand out toward his friend. "Don't hurt him again. I'll go with you."
"Of course you will," the orc said in a smug tone. "We are not negotiating that, you little bastard. You are our prisoners and will do what we tell you to do."
"Yes, you will," another orc managed to say in almost incomprehensible speech. He got closer to Legolas and grabbed his arm, then he moved closer to the prince and lickedLegolas' face. The hasty intimate action made Legolas instinctively cringe away, but before any of the others could react, Thavanian used that moment of distraction to butt his head into the skull of the orc that was standing behind him.
Legolas was quick as well. When he noticed his friend's action, he punched the orc near him hard. The creature fell, but another one threw himself at the prince. They both went to the ground. Legolas grabbed the orc's wrist in time and barely escaped getting killed by his knife. The creature was on top of him, forcing his weapon in the direction of the prince's chest. It was a hard fight. From the corners of his eyes, he could see Thavanian being trapped again by two orcs. The wound on his belly was bleeding badly and he could barely defend himself with the knife he'd stolen from the enemy. When Legolas finally managed to jerk his body away, freeing himself and killing the orc with the creature's weapon, another orc had already hit Thavanian in the face, knocking him down.
Legolas wanted to go in his direction, but he had to face another enemy before he could. Behind the creature, he could see his friend fall to his knees and the enemy raised his weapon to finish what he had begun. His eyes grew large in alarm, but his surprise was increased when he saw an arrow that crossed the space between him and his friend, landing precisely in the middle of that orc's forehead, before he was able to kill Thavanian. The monstrous being in front of him fell as well, with a dagger in his heart.
Two warriors passed beside him then, and Legolas was still filled with astonishment, especially when he recognized Laston and Angahor. Some meters away, Elrohir was killing the last orc who tried to escape.
Legolas, however, didn't have time to pay attention to that victorious final act, he was already kneeling in front of Thavanian, trying to contain his bleeding. Soon someone was beside him.
"Let me see him." Elladan was already doing his job. He checked the wound quickly and soon was pressing a mix of herbs into it. Legolas watched the healer's movements without knowing what to do or say. Everything had happened so quickly. He was feeling a bit dizzy now.
"Poor Thavanian…" he finally said, and the angst in his tone made Elladan look at him.
"I wish we had arrived earlier," he said, turning to treat the deep wound on Thavanian's belly. "You shouldn't have come here alone," he added directing a reproachable look at him. However, when he saw the distress on the blond elf's face, he regretted his words. "He will be fine. It's like I always say. Sindar elves are made of pure steel," he tried to tease, smiling at the archer. "Are you severely hurt or are these bruises and cuts I see the only things that need care?"
Legolas just sighed, with no energy left to answer, and he let his head fall forward, his hair, almost completely loose, covering his face.
"Ainion? Are you hurt?" Elladan repeated the question, now looking worriedly at him.
"I am fine…" Legolas raised his head again, taking a deep breath. "And you, Elladan?" he asked, remembering the twin's incredible feat. It was hard to believe he was already recovered and ready to treat another patient. The question, however, only made the healer smile. Besides having left him with almost no energy, the experience of saving Hérion's life seemed to have brought a good feeling to him; he seemed at peace.
"I'm better," he replied. "But I think we all need some rest. I am glad we will soon be in my father's lands. I can't believe we were attacked here. It is a peaceful area, too close to Imladris for orcs to dare to be here. It makes no sense."
Legolas had the same thought on his mind, and the twin's words only made him remember the orcs' strange speech. If his father knew an enemy had put a price on his son's head, he might never allow him to leave the kingdom again. How important could he be to an orc leader? Were his intentions to use him to force his father to negotiate something? He had never heard of an orc intelligent enough to have this kind of thought. They hate elves so deeply that, in conflicts, all those creatures wanted was to kill each and every elf they met. Sometimes they captured one or two just for torture, a sadistic kind of fun, but eventually they ended up killing them all. They couldn't tolerate seeing any elf alive. It is their nature.
"How is he?" Elrohir asked, kneeling beside Elladan and already looking at Thavanian.
"We have to get to Imladris as soon as possible," Elladan answered apprehensively, and the change in his tone of voice made Legolas frown. He noticed the blond elf's worried eyes. "His situation is controllable, Ainion. Nevertheless, he needs care, and Hérion does as well. We can't delay our departure anymore. I can do little for them here. I am running out of medicines."
Legolas nodded, but he was still very worried about everything that had happened. Elrohir squeezed his brother's shoulder and moved away. The twin brothers' communication was always that way; they seemed to understand each other with very few words. Legolas' gaze followed Elrohir's path. The captain was already giving instructions to his friends. Angahor and Laston drew closer to him, paying attention to his words.
"Is there something else worrying you, Ainion?" Elladan asked, and he felt the healer's hand holding his chin and making him look at him. Legolas thought about what to answer, but his words were swallowed by a muffled groan of pain, when Elladan touched exactly a specific painful place. "They hit you where the spider stung you, didn't they?"
Legolas closed his eyes. Sometimes it was hard being around so good a healer.
"I am fine," he said between his teeth, trying to control his pain under the twin's ministrations. Elladan had opened the prince's tunic and had gazed at the injury. He had taken something that seemed like a kind of oil or balm out of his bag, dropped a little into his hand, and spread it over Legolas' injury.
"They hit you hard here," he said, leaving his hand a little longer over Legolas' ribs. He stopped to feel the region, then looked at him. "You will have to rest, Ainion. Your ribs are not in the best condition. You are lucky none of them are broken."
Legolas nodded again, but their conversation ended there because Earon and Varyar arrived bringing an improvised stretcher made from poles lashed together with thick rope they'd brought with them. Elladan helped them to lay Thavanian there. When he groaned in pain with the movement, Legolas was quickly by his side.
"You'll be better soon, mellon nîn.Don't worry," he said when they raised the stretcher.
Thavanian made a grimace of pain, his eyes already closed.
"Legolas…" he said.
Legolas grew pale, but he tried to think quickly.
"It's Ainion, captain," he managed to say, without daring to look around. "We are in the forest. We are going to Imladris, but we will be back home soon."
Thavanian frowned, his eyes still closed, and Legolas feared that, in his state of agony and pain, his bodyguard would say something he shouldn't. But those words seemed to take the last of Thavanian's energy, and soon his head fell to the side, his lips parted. Legolas couldn't help looking at Elladan in search of help.
"He is fine. The mixture I gave him has finally made him sleep. He will feel no pain now," the healer said. He was walking on the other side of the stretcher. He looked at Thavanian once more, then to the archer. "He mistook you for Legolas…" he said.
Legolas bit his lip, looking for something reasonable to say. Lying was becoming easier for him the more frequently he had to do it.
"He's never done this…" he said, pretending embarrassment. "I don't know why he did it now. Maybe he misses our prince."
Elladan smiled gently, looking again at the wounded warrior.
"He is not the only one…"
When they got back, they noticed the elves had rearranged the camp. The fire was lit again and Arnamo was preparing something to eat. Legolas frowned since that had not been Elladan's plan. He noticed the discomfort in the healer's expression as his eyes scanned the clearing looking for his brother.
"Laston, where's Elrohir?" he asked, while gesturing to the elves who were carrying Thavanian to put him beside Hérion near the fire.
"He is there, Elladan." Laston pointed to the group of bushes from where the orcs had come. There were some elves talking there, and one of them was Elrohir. It was getting dark, but Elladan and even Legolas noticed something before Laston completed his answer. "We have visitors."
Elladan moved toward his twin, holding Legolas' arm for a moment to indicate he should follow him. When they took some steps in that direction, Elrohir turned to them and, when he'd moved, the other elf he was talking to became visible. Elladan's smile immediately got wider and he quickened his looked at the newcomer curiously.
"Elladan," Elrohir said as he came toward them, accompanied by the elf the prince did not know. "It seems that our father sensed our danger."
"But we were not fast enough," the stranger added as he approached. When he was close enough he embraced Elladan in a fatherly manner, pushing him away after a moment to look into his eyes. "You seem more tired than you used to after these insane trips of yours."
Elladan smiled. "I am fine. Welcome anyway, mellon nîn," he said, and his voice sounded different to Legolas' ears this time. The newcomer just embraced him again, and with his other arm, he brought Elrohir closer too.
"I've missed you, you troublemakers. I'm glad nothing worse happened to you and your group."
"So are we…" Elrohir leaned his head on the stranger's shoulder for a moment, but soon both brothers pulled back.
Legolas observed the scene from a few steps away. He couldn't hide his curiosity. It was obvious that the stranger was a Sindar elf. How odd it was seeing another blond head among the dark-haired Noldo. He must be a very important person treating the twins with such intimacy. The other warriors of the patrol seemed to have very similar feelings as those of the twins. All of them knew this elf and had great esteem for him.
Elladan finally turned to Legolas and smiled. "Come here, Ainion," he said, raising his arm in his direction. When Legolas got closer, the older twin covered his shoulders with his right arm. "I'd like you to meet someone who is very special to us. This is our mentor and friend; Lord Glorfindel, the Arms Master of Rivendell."
Legolas was helpless. Who did Elladan say this elf was? The noble Glorfindel of the extinct Gondolin? The one who had faced the most terrible of creatures? The one who had returned from death? Was he mentor to Lady Celebrian's children?
The archer sighed, realizing now, better than ever, the great positive influence that the twins had had in their lives. It would be perfect enough being sons of Elrond, and also grandsons of Galadriel and Celeborn. However, besides that, they also had as instructor an elf of such magnitude, he knew him only from books.
"Ainion?" The elf lord gave him a puzzled look, which startled Legolas. "Where are you from, soldier?"
The stranger's tone was one of someone whose patience seemed not to tolerate unnecessary waiting. However, the words the prince needed stubbornly denied being useful to him, hiding themselves behind that furtive barrier of admiration and apprehension that he'd built. Elrohir laughed then, coming closer to Legolas.
"Have you ever heard of Glorfindel, Ainion?" He guessed the meaning of the expression of astonishment on the archer's face.
Legolas took a deep breath, trying to compose himself again. He felt as if one of the pictures from the books in his father's library had suddenly come alive. But he had not only learned to read in that library, he had also learned how to read people's expressions, and he was very good at it. The look he was receiving now from the infamous Balrog slayer did not tell him that Glorfindel wanted to be praised or admired. No, Legolas knew this look. It reminded him much of his father's; it was the look of someone who wants nothing but the truth.
"Yes, I've read about you, sir," he said, placing a hand on his chest respectfully. "It is a pleasure and a surprise to meet you here."
Glorfindel frowned slightly and pressed his lips closed. He now faced the stranger in front of him with his chin up. His clear eyes held a hint of mystery. He did not seem to have really appreciated what he'd just heard.
"Do not believe everything you read, boy," he astutely said. His tone was serious, and perhaps even a little rough, and it made Legolas breathe deeply again, not able to disguise his disappointment with the treatment he received.
"Do not be rude, Glorfindel," Elladan said, noticing the archer's discomfort. "Ainion is from the Green Forest, the Elven King's Realm. It is the first time he has visited this side of the river."
An uncomfortable silence grew even longer, and the blonde warrior of Gondolin used it to coldly analyze the new figure standing before him. No. He did not know this elf; however, this 'not knowing' was strangely disturbing him.
"Mirkwood is the name of that place now, isn't it?" he corrected then. "Nobody calls that dark tangle "green" anymore, do they, boy?"
Legolas' jaw hardened, and the answer that quickly came to his lips had to be swallowed again. He just took a deep breath once more and tried to calm down. It seemed that the forest where he lived was receiving the same treatment he received on some occasions. The real meaning of his homeland was being adulterated, replaced with conjectures about appearances.
His forest was not what they thought it was. Neither was he what some people thought he was.
What he was? No. Who he was…
"No, sir…" he simply said.
Elladan lowered his eyes, uncomfortable with the tone of the conversation. "Ainion is having a difficult time, Glorfindel. His patrol was attacked near the borders. He and his captain are the only ones who survived." He hoped this information would be enough to make his mentor refrain from more of his typical offensive questions.
"That's true," Elrohir added. "Two orc attacks in less than 150 miles. I don't know what these creatures have in mind."
"You wouldn't like to know, elfling," Glorfindel teased, and Elrohir smiled, shaking his head.
"I'm serious, Glorfindel. This was no ordinary group of orcs."
"How do you know?"
"I just know."
Glorfindel went silent; during the entire conversation, he had kept his eyes on Legolas. He still seemed very intrigued.
"Orc attacks always have the same objective," Angahor said, joining the conversation. "Plunder. They are stupid creatures, unable to aspire to greater deeds."
"And what do they want from us?" Elrohir looked at him. "Their weapons were as good as ours are. I can't accept they jeopardized themselves against two complete patrols, ours and Ainion's, just to get some swords and bows. They know we don't carry anything worth such a risk."
"It was just a matter of luck, or bad luck I think," Laston said as he drew nearer. "If you recall, no orc was left alive from the attack on Ainion's patrol to tell a story. So there is nothing we know of to link both attacks."
"It doesn't make sense anyway…" Elrohir said, making it obvious that he wasn't convinced.
"It doesn't," Glorfindel finally said, still looking at the blonde archer. "What do you think, soldier?"
Legolas barely kept his calm at the question. "What do I think of what, sir?"
"What do you think could be the reason for a bunch of stupid orcs to risk themselves against the group of wild wood elves that made up your patrol, just inside that horrible darkened forest of yours? What were you carrying? Who was with you?"
Legolas had no time to stop his reaction and his startlement caused him to wait too long to answer. This elf lord was the most astute person he had ever met.
"What do you mean, sir?" he finally managed to answer. "What could we be carrying? We were just a patrol watching our borders."
Glorfindel's lips curled up into a wry grin. "A patrol of whom?"
"Our King's patrol…" Legolas answered, acting confused.
Glorfindel continued looking at Legolas, analyzing now the great bruises and cuts on the archer's face. His eyes went down the elf's body, as if searching for some answer he was not giving him in words.
"Ainion's entire patrol was killed, Glorfindel…" Elladan cautiously reminded him. "There was nothing important with them, except their lives," he added in a sad tone and every warrior there was touched by the healer's words.
Every warrior, except Glorfindel. "What was your position in your patrol, soldier?"
"A scout," Legolas answered, this time without looking at him anymore. He was also touched by Elladan's words and a bit tired of this pompous elf's arrogant speech.
The blonde warrior tilted his head to the left, his chin still raised, a pair of slightly frowning golden brows over piercing blue eyes. Then his gaze roamed over the archer again until he gave a barely perceptible smile.
"Ainion is from the new generation," Elladan informed, trying to awaken some sympathy in his mentor for the Silvan elf, hoping he would regard him as the brave warrior Elladan knew him to be. "He was born during the Watchful Peace."
"Ah yes... Of course!" Glorfindel commented in an ironic tone. "The Watchful Peace," he repeated, emphasizing the words to isolate them in their tones and meanings. "It was the era of innocence. Today this generation's children pay the price of their parents' ignorance. So are you one of these penitents, boy?"
Legolas felt his body freeze, staring at the sea of intentions and meanings that were located behind that simple sentence. The inevitable picture of his dead friends, most of them born exactly in that era, came to torment him again and a different load of sorrow invaded him.
"Of course I don't blame them," Glorfindel said without waiting for any answer or protest. "The king himself, who is not as naive as the people of the forest, also gave a son to his Silvan wife. Moreover, I always judged him an extremely clever elf. It seems that the ingenuity of these green elves is contagious."
Legolas' chin fell at last, but in his exhaustion, he could still see the twins' visibly trying to change the subject. They seemed embarrassed. Elrohir said something about the map they were using and the necessity of reviewing some paths they had judged safe but that weren't anymore. Elladan agreed and even Angahor and Laston's voices were heard. Legolas tried to follow the conversation. It certainly was a relevant discussion, to which the archer knew he should pay attention, but his tired mind, even if he'd been willing to bring the last subject back and stand up in defense of his people, of his father, was too confused to do so now. The elves in front of him seemed to be distorted, with strange waves changing their shapes, transforming them into other images. That same battle scene was still on his mind, the blood, the pain, the loss. He closed his eyes, this time allowing the feeling to invade him. It had been devastating, seeing his friends die. How he missed them…
Every day would be like this, he knew, until he could actually lie down and rest. It was the only way to get rid of those images; the past ones… the future ones...
"Ainion?" Someone gently touched his shoulder and he opened his eyes, then Elladan's palm was on his forehead. The elf looked at him for a moment, which seemed enough for his conclusions, and he held his arm. "Come. With all this mess I forgot I still have to take a more extensive look at you."
Legolas tried to complain, but the glances he noticed of the other elves there made him give up arguing. He must have seemed in bad shape, because the concern was visible in the faces of Elrohir, Angahor and Laston. Only that Sindar elf did not seem concerned. He was still looking at him as someone did who stood in front of a mysterious ark for which he wanted to have the key.
It was a nightmare. An endless nightmare. And people in his land used to say that the other side of the river was beautiful and peaceful as Valinor. A paradise. What kind of paradise was this?
The elf lord approached. Those light eyes, so like his father's, seemed to emanate an uncomfortable heat.
No. There was no paradise, he concluded to himself, closing his eyes again. Not for him. Never for him.
"Please, my prince… My beloved prince… Set my soul free… Set me free… I want to go…"
It was Elladan who caught him as he fell this time. However, he listened to Elrohir's worried voice as well. Even Laston and Angahor expressed their concern.
But one special voice, he didn't hear.
When Legolas opened his eyes again night had fallen. He didn't know which night it was. Unfortunately, this was becoming a sad routine; not seeing the days pass, because he was involved in a battle, or too far away in his thoughts to see the life pulsing around him. The camp was filled with elves, probably the patrol Glorfindel had brought. His instincts made him look for the blond leader, but he didn't see him anywhere. That was a relief. Near him, as always, was the patient figure of Elladan, already offering him a cup to drink.
"Take this," he said. "Don't worry. It is just water. I don't want you to sleep again without eating something first."
Legolas agreed, raising himself on one elbow and taking a few sips.
"How long have I slept?"
Elladan smiled sadly. "A few hours, Ainion. I can't precisely tell you, but less than three."
Legolas nodded silently, looking around the camp. The elves were occupied with several things, but some of them simply sat around the fire. It was on the opposite side of the field that he finally saw Glorfindel. He was crouched beside a soldier, holding his face upward, so that he could see what seemed to be an injury. After a few minutes, he seemed satisfied with what he saw and gave the elf a weak slap on the face, offering a small smile. The elf smiled back.
"He is the best fighter I've ever seen and one of the fairest persons I know. What everyone here knows as a warrior we have learned from him.…" Elladan's voice called his attention back. "But his impertinence and distrust are among his most frequent weapons. Do not get him wrong, Ainion. Everything he does, he does to protect us."
"I understand... I think I must not leave a good first impression on people."
Elladan laughed softly. He was now checking Hérion's bandages.
"How are the others?"
"They would be better if we were at home. But we will have to wait a bit longer."
"Why?"
"Glorfindel wants us to finish our travel under the sun. The last events and the number of wounded ones, including the ones with less severe injuries, did not leave him feeling easy enough to travel under the stars," Elladan finished in a slightly troubled tone. It was very visible that he didn't agree with his mentor. "What a horrible time. It will be a blessing to finally put my feet on home soil."
Legolas lowered his eyes. He was the one who used to get lost in those kinds of dark thoughts, but seeing Elladan doing this was terrible, as if suddenly everyone's support did not exist anymore. He wondered if someone had this feeling about him as well. If he was or could be someone's shelter.
"Everything will be fine. I am sure," he said, and Elladan looked at him from the other side of Thavanian now, the patient whose wound he was checking. The healer smiled.
"If you are saying this I have to believe," he said. "You seem like someone who feels the world better than me."
That comment first intrigued Legolas, but he just offered a small smile as response. To feel the world, he repeated to himself. Maybe it was true, not exactly as the gentle healer thought, but true.
Legolas closed his eyes. Now that he had rested a bit he felt straight enough to face something that was stealing his peace. Something that had nothing to do with past or future. Something he was living now and he still couldn't classify it.
"Please, my prince… My beloved prince… Set my soul free… Set me free… I want to go home…"
Legolas allowed himself to hear and see something that had been unbelievable in that horrible vision, and a conclusion he was trying not to believe finally found room in his thoughts; could it really be true that his attempt to hide himself as Ainion had thrown his childhood friend into the dangerous empty space between death and life? He lay back down again and covered his face with both hands. A place between life and death. He knew what that was like. He had experienced this before with his mother. However, this was another forbidden story.
Another forbidden story…
"What's wrong, Anion?" Elladan asked as he approached. When he'd seen the younger elf roughly rub his face with both hands it worried him.
"Nothing..." His answer came almost automatically. But the silence Elladan gave him as a comment to that, made him look at the healer. "I am well, Elladan. I am just…"
"You should already know you shouldn't hide anything from me. I am your healer."
Legolas moved his eyes to the elf before him. The twins repeatedly made him realize how little they had changed during this long period since his childhood. Elladan was exactly who he'd always been; peace and wisdom still seemed to shape the traits of his eternally youthful face. Ilúvatar, he trusted both twins with all his heart, even after all these years. Finally, some good thoughts came to his mind. Some of those precious moments he had spent with the two brothers when they visited his father's realm. Laughter, joy, happiness… He hated his childhood, but these little moments were the best days of his existence.
In front of him Elladan's lips thinned worriedly. He placed his hand on Legolas' head.
"Tell me, mellon nîn."
"Dan… How can you free a soul who is in the empty space?"
Elladan parted his lips, and his heart sank when he heard the blonde elf call him by a nickname that was reserved only for him and his brother. It was the second time he'd used it, and Ainion seemed to do it with a strange easiness, almost unconsciously. To the healer, however, it brought a familiar and unexplainable sensation of connection. They allowed no one to call them that, but with Ainion it seemed different.
It took some time for the meaning of the question he heard to finally occur to him.
"What... what did you say, Ainion? Which empty space do you mean? The space …" he hesitated a moment, "before being admitted to Mandos' Halls?" he asked, placing his palm on the archer's forehead to check his temperature.
Legolas did not answer. He already regretted what he'd said. He lay down then, looking uncomfortably around the camp. From the other side, an image called his attention. Glorfindel had noticed he was awake and was coming in his direction.
Damn it…
Elladan, who did not notice his mentor approaching, was still looking curiously at him. "Did you have one of those… dark dreams of yours?" he asked.
"I think... I think so..." Legolas replied hesitantly, his eyes following the blond elf's approach.
"And have you seen someone in particular?"
Before he could answer, Glorfindel was already standing behind Elladan. Legolas sighed, knowing his time for truths or half-truths was over.
"Go eat something, Elladan," Glorfindel advised, and only then did Elladan notice his presence. "Go. I will watch your patients while you take a meal."
"Give me a moment, mellon nîn," the twin said cordially.
"I'm not offering this to you, elfling," Glorfindel said with discontent. "Your brother is over there with his nose pressed to those maps and routes. He is still unsettled by this latest orc attack. Only you can make him eat and rest. Come on. Be a healer to your twin as well."
Elladan moved his eyes immediately in the direction his mentor had indicated. There he could see Elrohir crouched at the corner of the camp with a big map in one of his hands and a stick in the other, scratching the dry soil in front of him, making those kinds of drawings he used to do when he was trying to decipher something. It was the way Elrohir's mind worked, through drawings. He made them and then they would be in his mind forever. He sighed then. Glorfindel was right. He knew his brother and how tired he was, but he hadn't even asked him if he was injured or not.
"You should go, Elladan," Legolas said, and when the healer looked at the blond elf, he was met with a small and encouraging smile he hadn't seen yet. "Do what you need to do; I am sure it can wait until after you and your brother eat something."
Elladan smiled back, but his expression turned troubled as he looked at his mentor.
"I will not disturb the boy," Glorfindel said, reading the meaning in the healer's eyes. "I give you my word. You can go."
The twin pursed his lips, not totally convinced, but he rose and looked once more at his patient. "I'll bring you some soup then," he said, just to assure Legolas that he would return soon. "You eat, and when you rest I'll be near you again, alright?"
Legolas sighed, understanding the twin's message. Elladan hadn't forgotten their conversation and was telling him he would be with him when he was sleeping to wake him up if he had another nightmare. He offered a smile of gratitude.
"Please eat first, and take some time with your brother. I am not hungry. I'll try to rest."
Elladan didn't seem to like that answer, but he just raised both eyebrows, hiding a smile.
"So promise me you're going to sleep."
"I promise."
Elladan nodded and, with no more words, he walked in his twin's direction. Legolas watched him crouch beside his brother, already embracing him. He said something into Elrohir's ear and he smiled, looking discreetly in Legolas' direction. They rose up then and moved to sit by the fire. Elladan strategically sat in a position in which he could see his patient and his mentor.
After observing the same scene, Glorfindel sat near Legolas. First, he looked at Thavanian for a while, analyzing the sleeping warrior, and then his eyes reached Hérion and his face saddened a bit, before he finally looked at Legolas.
"How do you feel?" he asked. "Elladan told me you have been collecting a sequence of misfortunes since even before they met you."
"Elladan is a kind soul. If I can say I am well today it is because of him," Legolas replied without looking at the blonde leader. He was afraid of him without knowing why. He felt uncomfortably vulnerable before this illustrious figure. "I just need to rest."
Glorfindel heard that answer attentively, but still he said, "Elladan does have a kind heart, a kind heart which has put him into many troubles in his life."
That comment finally affected the younger elf the way the blond warrior seemed to want it to; Legolas looked directly at him.
"Listen, boy," he said, quickly changing his tone. "If there's anything I can do well besides hold a sword, it is that I can recognize a lie as soon as I hear one. So I advise you not to waste your time attempting to trick me."
Legolas frowned, trying to figure out if that suggestion would refer only to his last answer or to other fragments of conversations they'd had since he was introduced to him.
"I beg your pardon, sir…"
"Certain cultural aspects run swiftly in the blood of the elven races, even if they do not draw lines on their faces or their physiques," Glorfindel said, unleashing a quick speech, and Legolas frowned deeply with every word he heard.
"I do not know if I understand you correctly, my lord," he was forced to admit.
Glorfindel sighed, then breathed deeply. There was a silence between them for several moments. Then, suddenly and inexplicably, the warrior fixed his eyes on the prince, who was aware that something was going to happen and it would not be good.
"Tell me something about your ancestry. Who are your parents?"
The unexpected question locked Legolas' lips immediately, and the color drained from his face. He had been right in fearing this blond warrior. Several thoughts went through his mind, leaving him wondering which answer Glorfindel was waiting for, but his threat was still echoing in the prince's head. Do not lie... Do not lie... Do not lie...
"You do not know them," he finally replied, in what he thought was at least half the truth.
"But they have an identity, do they not?" Glorfindel asked ironically and persistently.
Legolas exhaled. The first idea that came to his mind was using Ainion's father's name. Lord Megildur was a kind and respectful Silvan elf of brown hair and deep green eyes, who was one of his father's consultants. Why not? Had he not already borrowed Ainion's identity?
However, the image of the Silvan soldier came to his mind. The terrible vision he had and whose meaning was not very clear yet. No. He had already taken enough from his loyal childhood friend. He had dishonored Ainion's name, so he was determined he would not do the same with his friend's father.
"I do not want to talk about them. If you please, sir," he just said.
"Why? Aren't you proud of your ancestors?"
Legolas parted his lips. It was surprising how easily this elf uttered the harshest words. He then fell silent.
"What's the matter?" the blond leader insisted, almost to the despair of the elf before him. "I am just asking about your lineage. I want to know who your parents are, which is something any elf understands very well."
"I am a Silvan elf," Legolas hit back. "My people do not use their ancestry as a kind of identification."
"Your people?"
Legolas paled again. "The people of the Forest," he said, as he tried to compose himself. Ilúvatar, he was playing a difficult game, as hard as the ones he played with his father when the king was beside himself, lost in a moment of anger. He was too tired for this.
"Yes," Glorfindel agreed with an intriguing look. "I know your people. They do not use titles. They considered themselves as children of the Forest. Living the beauty that surrounds them, seeing it even in the most sinister places."
"Do you see this as a negative trait, sir?"
"Quite the contrary. I think it is a virtue."
"So... I do not understand what you are trying to get me to say."
"It's simple. The people of the forest have an ancient art. They pass their history and knowledge from parent to offspring in ballads and songs. Is that not a fact? They are not interested in anything that is material, things that they can't carry with them. Am I right?"
"Yes, you are, sir," Legolas agreed. "You know our people well."
"Yes. I know everything about your people."
"So..."
"I just do not know you. Where do you fit in, boy? You do not have the physical aspects of the Sindar elves who decided to live in the Forest. But you also don't have the detachment of the Silvan people. A Silvan elf would never have read about me in a book or even if he had, he would never use this argument. He would have valued his information if he'd received it from one of his ancestors. They don't see the significance of books as the other races do."
Legolas' jaw dropped a little, then he finally found out why this lapse of his had generated such distrust in the blond warrior.
"But you've read about me, haven't you? What did you say your name was?"
"I did not say," Legolas replied, and Glorfindel's smile intensified, followed by an awkward silence that lasted until the elf lord sighed and dropped his shoulders forcefully.
"I know your loss and I am sorry for it," he said with a seriousness even scarier than his moments of irony. "But I protect my group, and I'll do that every moment I see it is necessary. I'm telling you now, whatever you are hiding or distorting, reveal it at once or you will force me to find other ways of getting the information."
Legolas narrowed his glittering eyes. Glorfindel's threat, however, only intensified his search for an alternative way to get him out of this impasse. No. He would not reveal his identity to this elf.
"My father works for the king. I was raised in the king's halls …" He embraced facts of Ainion's life again. As Lord Megildur used to stay long hours in the king's office, his son used to pass some time with the prince. They were almost the same age and both learned to like books very early in their lives. However, unlike Legolas, Ainion had a chance to get out of the cavern and confirm the authenticity of what they read. Legolas remembered how anxious he was for Ainion's visits with the information he brought him. Unfortunately, the king soon suspected it was that kind of conversation that moved Legolas to want so desperately to go outside the cave, and he asked Megildur not to bring his son with him anymore.
"That doesn't seem to have been a good experience," Glorfindel said, interpreting the sad lines on his face, and when Legolas moved his eyes to see him, he met a different look in the warrior's eyes. He seemed convinced, but still troubled. "Was it harder to be with the pompous royalty than amidst your beloved green trees?"
This time Legolas' eyes shone, and he did not even try to disguise the truth of that statement. Thanks to Ilúvatar, being who he was pretending to be in that moment, he could say what he thought about living in the Realm without any problem. "Yes… It was hard…"
"You did not like it."
"No…"
"How many years did you live there?"
Legolas parted his lips to answer, but then he realized he was again too close to the dangerous area of truth.
"Time enough…" he just answered.
Glorfindel raised his chin, looking at him closely then.
"So you have Silvan parents, but had a Sindar education."
Legolas just nodded this time, his eyes on his hands in his lap.
"Maybe that's why I see Silvan lines in you, but when you open your mouth what comes out is a hundred percent Sindar," he said. "Your explanation is acceptable, boy. But I have to admit that I still feel that it is not complete."
Legolas breathed deeply, but looked firmly at the blond elf. "Acceptable to whom, my lord?" he asked, and Glorfindel finally let out a laugh that held more than satisfaction.
"A Sindar culture in a Silvan wild elf." He shook his head.
Legolas looked seriously at him then. "A mongrel culture," he said, and for the first time, he felt comfortable using an adjective that was used to classify him more times than he liked.
Glorfindel smiled again, but even smiling, he continued making a terrible chill go down Legolas' spine.
"You do not know Rivendell, do you?" he asked.
"No sir."
"And do you want to know it?"
"I have no choice, sir. My captain is injured again."
"And if you had a choice?"
"If I had a choice I'd like to know it anyway."
Glorfindel then stood up, stretching his body and adjusting the sword in its sheath. He looked at the sky. His face was now silhouetted against the sunset, which gave him a somber aspect.
"We're leaving tomorrow and your desire will be fulfilled," he said thoughtfully. "Rivendell is a land of revelations, believe me. Few secrets are kept there. Nevertheless, we have the advantage of always feeling the new beat on our doors. Let the old past go away, and receive what is new, then you will be living the climate of Rivendell."
I'd like to thanks people who added my fic to their favorite list. My special thanks to: Lilya97, Just someone, Evereven, LesFangirl24601, doctorepic, Guest, Animejessi, Emily, THiaLieN, Lia Whyteleafe, DreamingIn2Eternity, a-mild-looking-sky, Celebmiriel Of Imladris, Karibookworm, Reader, Edengwen, Pooch2010, and HelloDenmark for their reviews and PMs. Very special thanks to Schattenjagd for continue motivating me. Thanks a lot to all of you.
The most special thanks again to my patient beta Puxinette. You are the best! Thanks a lot, mellon nîn!