I've decided to write a new LOTR story completely different from my previous one, which I will probably take down when I get home from classes today or something. This new idea has been brewing in my head lately so I decided to give it a shot and see where this one will take me. I've always loved Legolas XD and I can't wait to see The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug when it comes out Friday! Anyone else going to watch it? Orlando Bloom is coming back XD
Summary: Laeriel had no recollections of how she came to Rivendell. The only thing she knows is Lord Elrond raised her as his own. When the Council of Elrond is called forth to determine the fate of all Middle-Earth, Laeriel joins the Fellowship in hopes of unraveling the mysterious threads surrounding her past. What she discovers will threaten to rip apart the lives of those whom she holds dear...
Laeriel is one of the translations of my real name, the source I used for this is a website called Council of Elrond.
Reviews are welcome!
Constructive criticism also welcomed!
Anything else shall be ignored and used to heat my house (aka flames).
I hope you all like this new story!
Rating: T
Pairing: Legolas/OC
Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR or any of its affiliated belongings!
Note: To the guest who asked if this is a self-insert, no this is not a self-insert. I just used a translation of my name for my OC because I couldn't think of a good Elvish name for her.
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Those With Courage
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Journey To Rohan
Legolas and his companions journeyed without rest into the night, chasing the footsteps of the Uruk-hai and their Hobbit friends. During this journey the Elf and Man alternated carrying the unconscious body of Laeriel, who still showed no signs of awakening. Aragorn was just about to allow Legolas to take the next part of the journey when the elf-maiden stirred.
"Laeriel!" Aragorn gently lowered his cousin on the ground.
Blue eyes fluttered open. "Cousin Aragorn?..." she said in a hoarse voice.
"Laeriel, thank the Valar you're awake," Legolas took her hand in his, hovering over her with a worried expression.
The elf-maiden blinked blearily, as if trying to get a sense of her surroundings. "Boromir...what happened?"
Aragorn turned away from his cousin, closing his eyes while the Mirkwood Prince broke the news. "He has died a warrior's death."
"He died protecting me..." Laeriel pushed herself onto her feet.
"Don't move yet. Your wounds will open up," Aragorn warned, but Laeriel waved him away.
"I heard what he said even while unconscious. I won't let his death be in vain," she took a deep breath and winced slightly when her abdomen hurt. "Let us continue on our way. We have to rescue Pippin and Merry from the Uruk-hai."
The two friends exchanged a look. "Are you sure you can run in this condition?" Legolas murmured.
"I trust cousin Aragorn's treatment."
"Then let us continue on our way," Aragorn concluded.
Thick clouds billowed over the horizon alongside a white mist spreading across the grassy plains. The red tinge of the rising sun began to peek above the billowing clouds, chasing away the remnants of the cold wind. Higher and higher it rose until at last, the bright, orange hue of rays of sunlight illuminated the land in a gentle glow, until at last, the red orb lifted itself high above the clouds, shining brightly through the misty haze.
Laeriel stood next to Legolas as the two Elves studied the distant lands. "A red sun rises," the Mirkwood Prince murmured, forehead creasing in a frown, as if sensing a feeling of foreboding. The elf-maiden sensed it as well, and her hand reached for that of her beloved's. "Blood has been spilled this night," he finished softly.
The four were drawing closer to the Uruk-hai by the hour, the newest footprints left behind were still freshly imprinted upon the moist earth. Aragorn tracked their movements through the plains, noticing how fast the hoard was moving. Ahead was the forest of Fanghorn, though still at least five leagues away from where they stood. Its green borders marked the boundary between the plains and the ancient woods, but that was not what drew the attention of the Elves. It was a billow of dark smoke, slowly rising into the sky in a single line, though the Elves could see no traces of a fire.
A step ahead of the Elves was Aragorn, who was bent over on the ground, studying the new footprints when a low rumble distracted him. Legolas and Laeriel turned their heads towards the east. It was the low rumble of horse hooves, and judging from how the ground vibrated, it wasn't one but at least over twenty. Sharing a brief look with one another, the friends nodded and made a dash for the clearing. They were in the lands of Rohan, but whether or not the sounds belonged to that of the Rohirrim, were unclear to the group.
Suddenly the group swept up like thunder striking high in the sky, horses of various colors, with riders mounted atop. The forefront galloped quickly past where the four were hidden, leading behind them a long line of mail-clad warriors, armors glistening in the sun.
Their horses were proud creatures, with glistening manes and long tails which floated in the wind. Proud too were their riders, mounted atop the noble steeds, each bearing well-kept armor, while some held the banner of Rohan, identifying themselves to the four Hunters as the Rohirrim.
The group had all but past the hidden four when Aragorn stood up and shouted into the wind. "Riders of Rohan! What news from the Mark?"
The leader of the Rohirrim raised his spear, directing the entire company to turn around. Pressing herself close to Legolas as the riders approached, Laeriel found herself enclosed in a tight circle surrounded by spears on all sides.
Wordlessly the riders came to a halt simultaneously, and a sea of spears were pointed at the four companions. One rider, taller than the rest, rode forward towards Aragorn with spear in hand. Resting atop his head was a helmet, from which a mane of white horse hair flowed.
"What business," he demanded in a commanding tone, "does two Elves, a Man, and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark?"
Silence.
"Speak quickly!" the Man demanded again.
"Give me your name horse-master, and I shall give you mine," Gimli casually said, though Laeriel detected a trace of a challenge within his words.
The proud Man's eyes flashed with anger, and in one swift movement, dismounted his horse and strode forward to stand in front of Gimli, as if accepting that challenge.
"I would cut off your head, Dwarf," he seethed angrily, "if it stood but a little higher from the ground."
Whipping an arrow from his quiver and nocking it so fast, Legolas drew the string back to his cheek, tip pointed at the arrogant Man. "You would die before your stroke fell," he hissed angrily, ignoring the massive quantities of spear tips, mere inches from his face.
Placing a hand on his friend's hand before something drastic happened, Aragorn exchanged a disapproving look with Legolas, who reluctantly lowered his bow and allowed the Ranger to talk.
"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn," he said, stepping between Legolas and the Man. "This is Gimli, son of Glóin, Legolas, son of Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, and Laeriel, daughter of Elrond of Rivendell."
The Rider did not show any signs of acknowledgment, but continued to stare hard at the Ranger, as if judging his words to be true or false.
"We are friends of Rohan, and of Théoden, your king." Aragorn finished softly, but insistently.
It was these words that finally broke through to the Rider, and his expression softened for the first time. "Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe," he said, anger seeping into his voice. "Not even his own kin," the Rider pulled off his helmet and the entire group lowered their spears. "I am Éomer, son of Éomund, and am called the Third Marshal of the Riddermark. Théoden King, son of Thengel, is my uncle."
Laeriel could hear the sorrow in his voice.
"But Saruman has poisoned the mind of the King and claimed lordship over these lands," Éomer waved a hand behind him, indicating to the riders surrounding the companions. "My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished," the Rider drew closer to Aragorn and hissed in his face. "The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man hooded and cloaked. And everywhere, his spies slip past our nets," his eyes rested on Gimli, then flicked over to Legolas, hardening as he glared at the Elf.
"We are no spies," insisted Aragorn quietly. "We track a party of Uruk-hai westward across the plain. They have taken two of our friends captive."
Éomer's sure gaze suddenly wavered at his words. "The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night."
"But there were two Hobbits! Did you see two Hobbits with them?" Gimli burst out anxiously.
"The Hobbits would be small. Only children in your eyes," Aragorn explained.
The rider shook his head somberly, and Laeriel felt her heart drop to the ground as she pressed a hand against her mouth.
"We left none alive," Éomer stated, pointing a hand towards the tendrils of smoke rising into the sky. "We piled the carcasses and burned them."
"Dead?" Gimli choked.
"Merry...Pippin..." Laeriel buried her face in Legolas' tunic.
Glancing away from the companions, the Rider let out a shrill whistle. "Hasufel! Arod!" he called, lifting a hand as two riderless horses, still with their bridles and saddles, emerged from the group. "May these horses bear you better fortune than their former masters," Éomer said, handing the reigns over.
Wordlessly Aragorn took the reigns.
"Look for your friends, but do not trust hope, it has forsaken these lands," he mounted his own horse and replaced his helmet, rousing the rest of the riders as he faced Aragorn. "Farewell," he called.
He turned to his men and called out. "We ride north!"
The Rohirrim broke out into a gallop as the riders rode away from the four, disappearing over the hill, and then vanished from view.
Wasting no time after the Rohirrim disappeared beyond the horizon, Aragorn took Gimli and mounted Hasufel, while Laeriel climbed up on Arod's strong back, sitting herself in in front of Legolas, allowing him to take the reigns. Swiftly the four Hunters rode without rest, making for the tendrils of smoke still visible in the air. None said a word. The same worry coursed through their minds, that Merry and Pippin were slain alongside the Uruk-hai by Éomer and his men. Laeriel pursed her lips and ran a hand down Arod's mane of hair, smiling when the touch reminded her of her beloved Gelleth back in Imladris. Her right hand suddenly began to burn and the elf-maiden hissed softly, pressing the limb against her chest gingerly.
"Is it hurting again?" Legolas murmured.
"It is burning, but I can handle the pain."
"We must destroy the Ring, or else you will end up losing your life."
His voice was laced with sadness and pain.
Laeriel soothed him with her hand upon his.
Arod and Hasufel broke free from the hill and ended up overlooking the still smoldering pile of carcasses. Swiftly dismounting their horses the four ran over and began examining the remains. The foul, pungent odor of burning orc flesh invaded Laeriel's nose, causing her to press a hand against her face in an attempt to block out the horrible smell. Up ahead Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli scoured the dead bodies, searching for any clues of the Hobbit's whereabouts. Silently the elf-maiden prayed that her two friends made it out alive, and weren't slaughtered with the Uruk-hai.
"Any sign of them?" she murmured, bending down to prod at a body with one of her swords.
Legolas shook his head, moving onto the body.
It was Aragorn who discovered a clue. "A Hobbit lay here," he murmured softly, pressing a hand against the dented earth, moving over to another spot. "And the other."
Rising to his feet the Ranger traced the patches of earth like one would a beast in the wilderness. "They crawled, this way," he moved ever closer towards the borders of Fanghorn Forest. "Their hands were bound," Aragorn then lifted up a burnt piece of rope, allowing it to dangle in the wind. "Their bonds were cut," he announced, examining the charred evidence closely.
Again Aragorn moved from his position, silently following the wordless clues of the Hobbits. "They ran. Tracks lead away from the battle into Fanghorn Forest," his eyes fell upon the gnarled, ancient trees of time right before him. "They are being followed. Here are the tracks of two Orcs who survived the slaughter."
The elf-maiden sucked in a sharp breath.
Gimli brandished his axe in the air. "Then we shall follow them!" he cried.
Following the trail of the Hobbits into Fanghorn Forest the four Hunters came upon the first body of the two Orcs. Aragorn bent down to examine its wounds briefly, then surged onward, where the second Orc carcass was discovered. What baffled the four companions was the remains of the second body. It was squashed flat, like something heavy had been dropped upon the Orc when it was alive, causing it to be crushed to death.
"They are dead, and there is no sign the Hobbits are injured," Legolas breathed.
Laeriel lifted her head and listened carefully to the trees around her.
"That still doesn't explain where the Hobbits went! We were following their tracks and then they stopped, like the Hobbits vanished into thin air! It is nonsense. This cannot happen," Gimli rambled nervously, his eyes darting this way and that.
"Be silent Gimli," Legolas murmured to the Dwarf. Like Laeriel, the Mirkwood Prince felt more at home within the trees of Fanghorn Forest, unlike Gimli, who preferred mountains and mines.
Gimli grunted in response but complied.
Both Elves could feel life flowing within the trees. Life and something much more. Closing her eyes the elf-maiden reached out with her senses, and what she felt was anger.
"These are strange tracks," Aragorn studied an area of the earth in front of him, pressing down on the flattened grass.
"The air is so close in here," grunted Gimli from his position.
"This forest is old. Very old. Full of memory," tilting his head backwards, Legolas knotted his brows together, sensing the anger and hurt within the trees. "And anger," he finished with a hushed voice.
The elf-maiden nodded in confirmation. "I can feel it in the air. The trees are angry. Angry at what has happened here," she added.
A moan, low and deep, reverberated within the forest, answered on both sides by groans and creaks, some high and others low. Gimli snatched up his axe and huffed, glancing nervously about, as if expecting an attacker to leap at them from the ancient branches.
"The trees are speaking to one another," Legolas exclaimed, widening his eyes and jerking his head in Gimli's direction.
"Gimli!" Aragorn made a gesture with his hand. "Lower your axe," he whispered.
Eyes wide with fear, Gimli complied, slowly lowering his weapon back onto the forest floor.
Carefully the four continued on their way until Legolas sensed a new presence. Darting ahead of the group several paces, the Mirkwood Prince paused in his steps, eyes scouring the vicinity. "Aragorn, nad no ennas," he hissed in Elvish.
"Man cenich?" Aragorn responded quietly in Elvish as well, joining the Elf where he stood.
The elf-maiden remained close to Gimli, but never far from her beloved as she listened quietly.
"The White Wizard approaches," Legolas said in the common tongue, indicating with his head to let his companions know the presence is drawing closer.
A warm sensation, almost like heat, beat upon Aragorn's back at that moment. It was like Éomer warned of earlier. Saruman had arrived.
"Do not let him speak," Aragorn warned, hand closing around the hilt of his sword. "He will put a spell on us."
Quietly unsheathing his sword halfway, the Ranger waited patiently where he stood. Gimli's hands curled around the hilt of his axe. Laeriel and Legolas had already nocked their arrows, their fingers brushing along the feathers of the arrow until resting upon the Elven hairs of one another.
"We must be quick."
Spinning around with his sword ready, Aragorn's movements were what Legolas and Laeriel needed. Together the two Elves released their arrows in the direction of the blinding light, while Gimli's axe spun through the air, heading straight for the white figure atop the boulder. However at the flick of his white staff, the axe and arrows were sent flying away, while Aragorn's sword began to glow a bright orange, causing the Ranger to drop it in shock.
"You are tracking the footsteps of two young Hobbits," the figure said in a strangely familiar voice, though difficult to decipher, even to Legolas and Laeriel.
"Where are they?" Aragorn demanded, shielding his face from the blinding light. Even the Elven eyes of both Laeriel and Legolas could not distinguish the figure from the blinding light surrounding the Wizard.
"They passed this way. Not too long ago, in fact," the figure answered. "They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?"
"Who are you?" Aragorn demanded in a stronger, clearer voice. "Show yourself!"
Slowly the figure stepped forward towards the four Hunters. The light around him receded, revealing white-washed hair and robes, and a very familiar face. Legolas' jaw tightened in disbelief when he realized who it was. Laeriel covered her mouth with her hands, unwilling to believe what her eyes were clearly showing her. Even Gimli, when Laeriel looked, had his bearded jaw opened, expression aghast.
Standing before them was Gandalf.
But they had all witness him fall into the abyss in Moria.
So how?
"It cannot be," Aragorn murmured, voicing the astonishment and disbelief embodied by the four.
Yet it was indeed.
"You fell..." the Ranger continued, stepping ever closer to Gandalf.
"Through fire," Gandalf stated gently. "And water. From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last I threw down my opponent and smote his ruin upon the mountainside," the two Elves lifted their head as Gandalf's voice grew even softer. "Darkness took me, and I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as a life age in the Earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again. I've been sent back. Until my task is done," he finished with a smile.
"Gandalf-" Aragorn walked forward in disbelief, closing the distance between himself and the Wizard.
"Gandalf?" the Wizard interrupted with a query, face morphing into a questioning expression, then remembrance dawned on him. "Yes. That was what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey. That was my name."
Legolas knelt down on one leg and lowered his head, Laeriel mirroring his movements, tears of joy sliding down her face at the sight of her dear mentor and friend.
"Gandalf," Gimli beamed with a reverent smile."
"I am Gandalf the White," the Wizard lifted his eyes to meet that of the two Elves. "And I come back to you now at the turn of the tide."
Hasufel and Arod were awaiting the return of their masters, casually grazing grass from below their feet. Upon sensing the return of their riders, the two horses nickered, trotting over towards them with greeting. Arod prodded Legolas and Laeriel with his head, prompting the two Elves to rub his velvet muzzle. Hasufel nicked at Aragorn's sleeve, and the Ranger smiled at the steed. Gandalf stepped forward to stare at the plains, like he was seeking something. Then he let out a shrill whistle, which vibrated and echoed across the vast plains of where they stood.
A loud neigh answered the whistle as a silver stallion galloped into view, letting out a equine laugh of its own. Its mane and tail flowed swiftly in the wind, and its canter reminded Legolas of a swift stream.
Laeriel slipped her hand into Legolas' as the Mirkwood Prince spoke. "That is one of the Mearas," his voice laced with awe, "unless my eyes are cheated by some spell."
"I see it too," murmured the elf-maiden.
"Shadowfax," Gandalf said, raising a hand to pat the silver stallion on the head, which stopped its canter and bowed its head.
"He is the Lord of all Horses," the Wizard moved to stroke its long neck. "And has been my friend through many dangers."
Wordlessly the Wizard mounted the silver stallion, prompting Aragorn and the others to do the same. In one fluid motion the Ranger climbed atop Hasufel's back, reaching an arm down towards Gimli. Hesitant at first to mount the horse, the Dwarf clasped his arm into that of his friend's and Aragorn pulled him up. Legolas swiftly mounted Arod, extending a hand towards his beloved. Laeriel grasped that hand and pulled herself up, seating herself in front of Legolas once again.
"Melon lin ú-awarthia le," Laeriel murmured to herself, thinking of the four Hobbits out there by themselves.
"Ú-awarthiam a pheriannath," Legolas responded, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.
"To Edoras!" Gandalf declared, urging Shadowfax into a run.
The two Elves reached down and patted Arod gently. "Noro Arod, noro, melon lin," the elf-maiden whispered.
Arod sprang forward with a gentle tug of the reigns, while Hasufel, at the urging of Aragorn, broke out into a sprint alongside its fellow horses.
Together the three steeds galloped across the grassy plains, heading for the Kingdom of Rohan.
To be continued...
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See you all next chapter!
Shadow Songstress~
Aragorn, nad no ennas= Aragorn, something's out there
Man cenich= What do you see?
Melon lin ú-awarthia le= Your friends will not forsake you
Ú-awarthiam a pheriannath= We will not forsake the Hobbits
Noro Arod, noro, melon lin= Run Arod, run my friend