Happy Leap Day my faithful readers! I apologize that once again I do not believe this is the more eloquently written chapter ever, but hey I am posting something. With that said, please forgive me for this chapter and yes things will speed up more in the next chapter (cliffie warning?)…

Also for those who think that I tell my stories too slowly: please be gracious. This is just my style. I prefer to develop as I go along and not make it too rushed. If you do not like it, do not read it! It is as simple as that, for I doubt greatly that my writing style will be changing anytime soon...

On another note, please do not hate me. I promise Tamír is not horrible. That is all I will say. As always things will become clear later on.

Enjoy and as always thank you to my beta ElvenMaia!


Out of Mirkwood

Scribbles-on-Parchment

February 29, 2020


Chapter 32 – Past Sorrows

Tamír looked at his friend, his normally brilliant green eyes hiding the pain that lingered behind it, for he too had seen the likeness in both look and manner between their young ellon and the former king of the Greenwood. He put a hand on Elrond's shoulder and said softly,

"Do not mellon nín. Please do not say it. Do not bring up things from the past that cannot be. Do not cause me to hope for things that are impossible."

The calm eyes of Elrond softened at Tamír's words. He knew the sorrow that it would cause his friend if he spoke of his suspicions. However, the similarities between Maer and Thranduil could not be ignored.

The hard, emotionless, almost judgmental stare that the ellon had given him had brought back memories of every meeting he had ever had with Thranduil. Not to mention the startling blue eyes and pale, golden hair of the Sinda. If anything, this young elf reminded him of Kélion, the only child of the elf king. If Thranduil had been given the blessing to have another child, the child would be the likeness of Maer. But the words of Tamír had shattered this image, 'Do not cause me to hope for things that are impossible'.

Thranduil's spirit had left arda many years ago. His body had been found at the gates to his kingdom, an arrow in his chest, his wife dead next to him. Their child could not have survived the destruction of the Greenwood. And even if he had this elfling had, Maer could not be him. For Kélion would now be over 2,000 years old. This Sinda did not look to be over 800.

Elrond shook his head. It was not possible, yet part of him still felt a spark of hope that this young Sinda would be the answer to his years of pain and regret. Maer would be the small rock that would start an avalanche of change. He could feel it.


Tamír rode at the back of the group. Elladan had volunteered to take the young Sinda on his horse with him. The elfling had woken for a moment before they had left their camp, but it had been brief, and had not taken long for him to slip off into well needed sleep.

Part of the Silvan had hoped that the elf would have said something; something more to just prove to him that his could not be who he looked to be. Everything about the young Sinda's actions and mannerism reminded him strongly of Thranduil, but his would be impossible. However, a part of his heart begged for it to be true. For some miracle to have happened. Perhaps Kélion had survived and this was his son. But the rest of him doubted. There were feelings he had buried deep within him that he did not want to feel… no, he could not bear to feel again.

As they rode through the rolling hills of Rohan, Tamír continued to cast an occasional glance behind him. Though Elrond had not expressed that there was any evil following them, he did not feel at ease. So many things had happened in the past several days that he would never have expected, and he did not want to be caught off guard again. But every time he looked back over his shoulder there was nothing to be seen, only the long grass waving in the wind. The land had become full of rolling hills as they drew closer to the Gap of Rohan and this prevented Tamír from truly getting a far view in any direction. He would have to trust his own and his friend's instincts now.

The party rode on as the sun climbed high in the sky, warming the last of the cool night air that still lingered in the shadows of the hills. The ever-constant breeze would float over the grass, pulling at the strands of Tamír's hair that had become loose from their braid. The ellon looked up at the clear blue sky over head and closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of the sun's rays on his face. Though nothing could compare to the cool and pure beauty of the night sky, it was days like this that came close.


Flashback

"Tamír!" the elven voice cut through the quiet courtyard, "I must speak with you. Now."

The Silvan elf turned to look at who had called to him and frowned as he saw his friend storming towards him. The ellon quickly set down the letter that he had been writing and stood.

"What is it Hethion? I have not seen you this upset for many years. Has something happened?" Tamír's eyes spoke of genuine concern, yet a joyful light still sparkled in them, one that could not be quenched no matter how bad of mood his friend was in.

The other elf walked up to young commander and stopped in front of him, eyes blazing in a way that they never had before. Tamír took a step back, startled at the intensity of the gaze. Something horrible must have taken place.

"Gen fuion," Hethion spat in the Silvan's face, "Gen ú-velin."

The ellon watched as the look of concern in his friend's eyes was replaced by genuine hurt. While it lasted only a moment, it was enough to give Hethion a feeling of pleasure.

"Why do you speak to me like this mellon nín? What I have I done to deserve such harsh words from you? Have I insulted you in some way?"

Tamír felt horrified and confused. He and Hethion had grown up together; this ellon was his gwador, the brother he had never had.

"You speak as if you do not already know. Hû úgan! You knew that I loved her!"

Hethion's face was twisted in rage, "I spoke to you of these things before I was sent out to escort the king to Imladris. I trusted you. Now I come back to find that she is to be married. And who is it that she is to wed? Tamír, Captain of Archers and advisor to the king himself."

The Silvan stopped, his chest heaving with emotion, and glared at the stunned look on his friend's face.

"Do not act so surprised mellon," Hethion said through clenched teeth, "You have always been the one to take everything from me. And what more is there for you to take then the pieces of my heart that you have broken."

Without another word he turned on his heal and stalked off towards the door that led into the palace.

"Hethion," Tamír's cry echoed across the courtyard after the ellon, "Gwador, wait. Allow me to explain…"

But the rest of Tamír's cry was cut off as the doors into the palace slammed shut behind his friend, leaving him alone staring at the grey stone. The letter he had been writing lay forgotten beside him.

End Flashback


Tamír shook his head, Hethion's words of anger still ringing in his ears. He had never seen anger so raw and visible in any elf before, nor since. His heart once again was filling with anguish and guilt. He had killed this ellon. He had killed his gwador, the one that he had sworn to protect and love as a brother. All it had taken was one arrow from him to murder the elf he had thought already dead. So many emotions and feeling had surfaced over the past several days. Feelings that he had buried down inside of him, that he had sworn never to let resurface again. Yet it now seemed as if everything in his past that he regretted the most was coming back to haunt him.


Estel rode next to his ada, his light grey eyes searching the surrounding grasslands. He had not been blessed with the power of the eldar so he had to rely on what his senses could tell him. Yet his ada did not seem worried, so Estel knew there was nothing evil near.

"Ion nín," Estel looked over at his ada's voice, "Something appears to be on your mind. Will you tell me what it is? For you seem rather frustrated or angered."

Estel look away from the elf for moment before saying,

"Why did you never go back? Why did you never go back to Mirkwood to see if any of them were still alive? Why did you not try to save the forest from the darkness that now holds it?"

Elrond's eyes turned sad, though he did not seem surprised to be hearing these questions.

"I could not bring myself to do so. I could not bring myself to face the destruction that I had caused there. That forest holds so many memories. So many memories of what it once was. It is too great of a burden for me to bear yet. I don't know if I ever will be able to set foot in that wood again."

The last part Elrond spoke almost to himself. He seemed to look past Estel as if deep in thought. After a second the ellon shook his head and smiled gently at his son,

"In truth ion nín, not returning to the Greenwood after the attack has been one of my greatest regrets of life. It is guilt that will never leave me until I cross the sea and can look Thranduil in the eye and ask for forgiveness."

The genuine hurt and sorrow in the elf lord's patient brown eyes caused Estel to look quickly away. He suddenly felt bad for all the things that he had said criticizing his ada. For once the Noldo seemed almost… human. He seemed to, for a moment, have lost the wise and calm look that many elves carried and revealed the truth underneath. He had made a mistake and now he was paying for it.

Behind the two figures rode Elladan. The elf listened to the exchange between his brother and ada, a soft smile gracing his lips. This was the beginning to a greater understanding between the two.

Suddenly, the body of the Sinda in his arms suddenly gave a moan causing the Noldo to call out to his ada and immediate pull his horse to a halt. But it was not quick enough. Maer's eyes focused as sleep left him. The Sinda gave a jolt as he tried to gain his bearings and slid sideways off the horse. Elladan gave a cry as he tried to catch the lithe body of the elfling but was rewarded only with the ellon's arm being driven in his stomach as Maer fell.


The first thing Legolas knew was that he was falling. His body immediately reacted, and he twisted as in the air managing to land in a cat like crouch in the grass. The young prince immediately brushed the long golden hair out of his eyes and glanced up at the horse he had just fallen from. The ellon on it was holding his midsection. As he caught Legolas's eye, he gave a brief glare that was quickly replaced with a grin.

The sound of horses' hooves on soft dirt sounded like thunder in the young elf's ears. Looking around Legolas found himself surrounded by the rest of the group on white and brown steeds. The Noldo lord, Elrond, gracefully leapt from his horse and hurried over to the young elf. Meanwhile Legolas looked around for a means to escape. If he was not a captive, then they would not stop him as he tried to leave.

"I would not advise it mellon," The Silvan elf pulled his horse to a stop in front of the Sinda and hoped down, "You would not make it far and I fear that my willingness to continue to save you in growing thin."

The subtle threat on the elf's voice rang clear in Legolas's ears stopping him cold.


Elvish Translations:

mellon nín – my friend

maer – golden

gen fuion – you disgust me

gen ú-velin – i hate you

gwador – sworn brother (not related by blood)

hû úgan – cowardly dog

ada – dad

ion nín – my son

mellon – friend