Disclaimer: Can I have just one Elf?

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On with the story!


Chapter 7: Riders on the Road

It was well past dawn when Elladan, Elrohir and Legolas led their horses out of the Mannish encampment. Legolas wore an expression of deep disgruntlement that amused his friends to no small degree.

"They actually drink that?" he whispered, glancing around to make sure none of the men could hear him. "Voluntarily?"

"Not only do they drink it, Elfling, they enjoy it. And I think you will as well, if you will only give yourself time and a chance to get used to it. I admit it has a fairly strong flavour, but –"

"Strong flavour?" Legolas said incredulously. "I barely managed not to spit it out! If I had not been afraid of what that man with the hatchet would do if I insulted his brewing ability I would not have been able to swallow a single mouthful. I do not know how the two of you managed to drink so much. Why are you going that way, Ro? Imladris is to the east."

"I know Imladris is to the east, Elfling. We are not returning to Imladris."

"Where are we going?"

"South."

"South? Why are we going south?"

"It will be a nice change from the woods around Imladris. And we may meet somebody interesting riding up from the Redhorn Pass. After all, there have been no messengers from your father for some weeks."

"What about what will happen when we go back to Imladris and are confined to the grounds for the rest of the summer for making everyone worry?"

"We will deal with that when it happens," Elladan said airily. "You cannot tell us you are afraid of getting in trouble, tithen Legolas, because no Elf with any sense will believe you. Certainly we will not believe you; you seem to have forgotten how many times we have helped you evade retribution for your numerous crimes."


"Has anybody heard from them?"

Lindariel glanced up at Elrond, a smile flitting across her face.

"I went into the forest before breakfast. The trees say the children are riding south. I suppose they were getting restless here and wanted something interesting to do."

"I am sure they will be fine…" Elrond said, although his tone suggested that he was sure of no such thing. At Lindariel's questioning look, he went on, "I know they have done this before. They are all capable of taking care of themselves and by all accounts the forest is safe enough now. All the same… Celebrían has been worried, and that makes me worry."

Lindariel frowned.

"I can send word. If Celebrían thinks we should call them back… They will not be happy, of course, but far better for them to be safe here than in danger in the woods."

Elrond hesitated for a moment before shaking his head.

"I think not. I do not know what exactly is worrying Celebrían, and neither does she. It could be something else entirely that she senses. If we force them to come back before they are ready they will only get more restless before summer is over."

The Elven-queen laughed.

"I do not even want to think about the consequences of three restless young Elves in this house. Perhaps it will be best to let them expend some energy before they return."


"Have you heard anything?"

Arbellason shook his head, not turning away from the window through which he was scanning the pines with growing anxiety.

"Nothing. Nobody has been able to find him, despite all the aid they have been getting from the trees. He is moving too quickly, taking paths that even the youngsters do not know. And now they have had no word of him for hours… I think he must be out of the forest by now."

"Do we have any idea where he plans to go?"

"I would say either Caradhras or the High Pass… More likely Caradhras."

"Imladris?" Thranduil asked, his voice suddenly hoarse.

Arbellason finally moved away from the window. He went to the Elven-king and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"He has no reason to go to Lindon. I do not for a minute suppose he has business or friends in Eriador; Bregolien has never troubled to hide his contempt for Men. We must assume that he is going to Imladris." He squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Do not worry, Thranduil. If there is any place that is safe, it is Imladris. Elrond will take care of them."

"I do not doubt that he will try," Thranduil said softly. "I only hope our riders reach Imladris before Bregolien does."

"Thorontur will be here soon," Arbellason said, trying to keep his voice confident. "He is riding as fast as he can. We will deal with this. We have vanquished more dangerous foes than Bregolien; he is just one Elf. Lindariel and Legolas will be fine."

"If anything happens to them…"

"They will be fine." Arbellason pulled Thranduil to his feet. "Have courage, mellon nîn. In a few weeks we will have taken Bregolien and Lindariel and Legolas will be here. Well, at least Lindariel will be here… I will not answer for your son's whereabouts; he is too much like you. For all I know he will be exploring some unknown corner of Greenwood with his friends while we sit here wondering if he will return in one piece."

The joke made Thranduil smile at last.

"Le hannon."

"Do not thank me," Arbellason said lightly. "It is part of my duties to ensure that you remain the wise and sensible ruler we need instead of becoming the doting idiot you are in the presence of your wife or son."

Laughing at the king's furious expression, he left the room.


"I think we should set up camp here."

Elladan and Legolas drew rein, staring at Elrohir in surprise.

"We have hours of daylight left," Legolas protested.

"Yes, but we can go on tomorrow. And I think we should stop for today."

"Is something wrong, Ro?"

"No…" Elrohir hesitated. "Nothing is wrong. I only think…" He glanced around. "I think I can beat you to that beech tree, Elfling."

He urged his horse to a gallop. Legolas, protesting, did the same, leaving Elladan to follow at a more sedate pace. By the time he reached the beech tree Elrohir had indicated, his brother and his friend had dismounted and were bickering about who had won. They both turned on him as soon as he reached them.

"You adjudicate, Dan," Elrohir said. "You know I won."

"He knows nothing of the kind. He knows I won because you cheated."

"I did not cheat! I cannot help it if you are slow to react –"

"You started before you even finished speaking! And I was only half a nose behind you at the end."

"You were more than half a nose behind me! I would put it at a couple of lengths –"

"I did not know your ability to judge distances was so flawed. This must be why you shoot like a Dwarf."

"I can out-shoot you easily, Elfling."

"Ro!" Elladan protested, chuckling. "If you let this turn into an archery contest then not even my most biased adjudication will be able to save you from ignominious defeat."

"You would be biased in his favour?" Legolas demanded, contriving to look deeply hurt.

"Yes, Elfling, because you do not need anybody to be biased in your favour in an archery contest," Elladan said soothingly, prompting laughter from Legolas and a few well-chosen expletives from Elrohir. "Now go and gather some firewood. The trees are less likely to suspect us of being woodcutters if you are the one doing it."

Elladan waited only until Legolas was out of earshot before turning to his brother.

"All right, what is it?"

"I do not know," Elrohir murmured. "It just seemed… prudent… not to be caught on the open road as night drew near. I did not want to worry Legolas."

"He is not a child anymore, Ro, and he will not thank you for treating him like one."

"I know he is not a child," Elrohir said irritably. "But at the moment, he is happy. He will have enough to worry about when he returns home."


Thranduil was in the Queen's Garden. For the second night in a row, sleep had deserted him. All Arbellason's reassurances could not convince him that his wife and son were safe and that Bregolien's murderous fury would leave them untouched.

He sat beneath an ancient oak that had been one of Legolas' favourite hiding-places as an Elfling. He himself had spent countless nerve-wracking hours standing under it as his son swung gleefully from branches that would never have supported a grown Elf's weight, disregarding all Thranduil's pleas to be careful and use both hands to climb. Lindariel had laughed at him, telling him that no child of hers was likely to fall out of trees, but that had not prevented him from darting around and around the trunk in an attempt to keep Legolas in sight.

A soft step jerked him out of his reverie. He looked up to see a page standing a few feet away, eyeing him anxiously.

Thranduil could not blame the Elf for being anxious. Practically everyone in the kingdom, and certainly everyone who lived or worked in close proximity with him, had learnt not to cross him when he was worried about his family.

"My king, Lord Thorontur has just arrived."

"What!" Thranduil got to his feet. "Already?"

"I believe he has been riding day and night without rest ever since your message reached him. He is waiting in your study."

"Le hannon," the Elven-king murmured, setting off for his study at a run.

He found Thorontur and Arbellason sitting on either side of the cold hearth, sharing a bottle of wine. Thorontur had clearly come straight from the stables to Thranduil's study. His clothes were travel-stained and his hair windswept.

"You look terrible," Thranduil gasped.

"No worse than you do," Thorontur replied affably. "And you do not even have an excuse. At least I have spent the past few days on horseback."

Thranduil sank into a chair and took the cup Arbellason handed him.

"We will find him," Thorontur said. "We will find him before he does any further damage. Do not fear, mellon nîn. And stop refusing meals – yes, I have been told about that." He shot Thranduil a severe look so reminiscent of Oropher that the Elven-king could not help chuckling. "You will help nobody if you weaken yourself. You must be strong. We will have Lindariel and Legolas here soon, and they will not be pleased if they find you half-dead from starvation and exhaustion."


Legolas was the first to wake. He stared up at the sky through the branches for a moment, wondering where he was. Then memory returned, and he laughed softly.

He got to his feet, sparing a glance for Elladan and Elrohir, who were still asleep, glazed eyes reflecting the light of early dawn. Legolas decided to let them sleep a while longer. With that thought, he leapt easily up into the branches of the beech tree. He climbed as high as he could, regretting the fact that he was now too heavy to get up to the topmost branches.

The tree welcomed him happily, pouring out complaints about the lack of Elven company in that part of the forest and occasionally lowering a branch to aid his progress.

I am pleased to see you too, my friend, Legolas told the tree, unable to keep amusement from his tone. But surely you must get some company. You are not too far from the path most Elves take from Imladris to the Redhorn Pass.

It has been many years since anybody stopped to talk to me, the tree grumbled. Young Elves are always in a hurry now. There was a group of Wood-elves last season, and even they barely stopped for a few minutes. They were on their way to Imladris. Elves going to Imladris are always in a hurry. I do not understand why. There can be nothing there that is better than a forest.

Legolas chuckled.

Not all Elves see things as you do.

No, the tree agreed, sounding so sulky that Legolas nearly laughed out loud. I expect this new one will be in as much of a hurry as all the rest.

New one? Legolas finally decided that he had climbed far enough and made himself comfortable with his back to the tree trunk. There is an Elf coming?

There is word of an Elf riding north from the mountain pass – what you call the Redhorn Pass. In haste, like all Elven messengers. The trees there think he has not stopped at all, except when he had to rest his horse or have it collapse under him. And even then he went scouting ahead for the quickest route while the horse rested.

Who is he? Legolas asked, intrigued.

How are we to know who he is? He is no friend of the forest. When he came down from the mountains he did not even stop to greet the first tree he met. Even most of the Noldor do that. He refuses to stay and speak to us when we call to him.

Legolas frowned.

It is unusual for an Elf to be in such a hurry. I hope he does not bear ill tidings. A sudden fear gripped him, and he demanded, Is he from Greenwood? Has something happened there?

I do not know, Elfling, the tree responded. I will ask if any of the trees has knowledge of his purpose.

I am not an Elfling!


Elladan woke to find the sun already well above the eastern horizon. He sat up and looked around. Elrohir was just opening his eyes. There was no sign of Legolas, although his horse was cropping the grass nearby. Elladan nearly laughed, but then he remembered Elrohir's fears of the previous night. He turned to his brother, who, from his expression, had been struck by the same thought.

"Where do you think he is?" Elladan asked softly.

"Do we really want to know?" Elrohir groaned. "We should have known he would disappear in the middle of the night. We will probably find him languishing somewhere with a broken leg and an arrow through his ribs. Ada will have our ears!"

"He may be fine," Elladan said. "Perhaps he has just gone to get water."

"You know the Elfling. Do you think it is remotely likely that he is doing something so innocuous?"

"That is true," Elladan agreed with a frown. "I have healing supplies. He may not be too badly injured. Where should we start looking?"

"You go north," Elrohir said, getting to his feet and pulling his pack towards him. "I will go south. We have heard no reports of Men in the area, so maybe he has only fallen and hurt himself."

"Maybe he is not far at all," Elladan said hopefully.

"Maybe he is standing in front of you wondering why the two of you are emptying your packs instead of getting ready to leave."

Elladan looked up in shock. Legolas was before them, clearly unharmed, watching them with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. Before he could react, Elrohir got to his feet with a sharp exclamation.

"Where were you? Do you not know better than to wander off without telling us?"

"I was only in the tree. Is something wrong?"

"I – nothing. What did the tree say?"

"There is a rider coming north, probably from Eryn Galen. The trees are uncertain."

"Then let us go and meet him," Elladan said. "At least on the way back to Imladris I will have better company than the two of you."


Sindarin Translations:

Tithen – Little

Mellon nîn – My friend

Le hannon. – Thank you.


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