Restoration II: The Story Continues ...

by Fianna Leighton

Chapter Eleven

Radagast the wizard lay sprawled on the forest floor, covered in leaves. Eyes closed, the wizard measured his breathing to that of the surrounding trees, his mind open to the tiny voices surrounding him. The creatures seemed unconcerned, their lives spent only in search of food and sleep in an unending rhythm of life.

He smiled at the simplicity of such a thing, wishing his life could be the same. But no, he was not a tiny vole or even earthworm, his voice was much larger, his role much bigger. Of course, not so much like Gandalf, or worse, Saruman, still confined to this day in his tower at Orthanc, guarded by the trees whose lives would last longer perhaps than the wizard if they had any say.

Those that be, that controlled the wizards of Arda had made their own decision regarding Saruman and his choice to become tied to the evil that had been Sauron. It was their will that the wizard remained trapped, taking much of the magic the wizard had once taken for granted.

They were not above the Valar, if different from the gods of Arda, controlled as yet by a distant and unknown entity.

One whose voice had risen in Radagast's mind not so long ago, reminding him he still had a role to play in this world. One of the last wizards to protect it.

But Radagast couldn't do so alone, he needed help. Where to look had been an easy choice. There were few left in this world with any power. Some unreasonable, some a bit more pliable. Kind of. Radagast chuckled, thinking Haldir was perhaps not as swayed as he might wish. But choosing Thranduil was clearly out of the question.

Or had been until the tiny voices around him spoke of the Mirkwood King and his presence in Lorien. An interesting event, surely it meant the changes he saw coming were already starting.

He meant to make sure the creatures of Arda would survive man's influence here, for men would come to rule, and not always in a good way. The elves were becomong reclusive, gathering in smaller and smaller groups, most leaving, but a few hardy and stubborn souls refused.

Haldir. Would he ever leave the Golden Wood? Radagast seriously doubted it.

Thranduil? The King had already said he would not.

Curious.

"What are you doing, Radagast?"

Haldir. Radagast laughed, puffing off the leaves that had covered his lips. "Meditating, Haldir."

"In the leaves? You might have been stepped on."

Radagast sat up, brushing aside more leaves to eye the elf perched on a fallen tree a few feet away. The light filtered in behind Haldir from a gap in the forest canopy, wreathing him in light. Radagast snorted faintly, how was it the elves always looked so serene and ethreal?

Haldir's brow rose, his arm resting on one knee he leaned forward. "Is there a problem?"

"Depends on what you think are problems. The worms complain there is not enough moisture. The voles are always hungry. Do you have any of that way bread... that, what was it called?"

"Lembas," Haldir answered. He pulled a leaf encased object from a pouch on his hip. Opening it, he broke off a few pieces and tossed them into the leaves near the wizard.

"You were always a good soul," Radagast said in admiration.

"Why are you meditating?" Haldir put away the lembas, his gray eyes fixed on the wizard.

"Um..." Radagast tossed a few leaves into the air, watched them swirl in the wind, reading the message. "Just am, elf."

"Just..." Haldir lifted his gaze to the sky for a moment.

Radagast smiled in amusement. "There may be some trouble coming."

The elf lowered his gaze, the sharpness of the intent there made the wizard shiver. "Indeed?"

He was right in coming to Lorien. Radagast held out a hand. 'Indeed, yes, Haldir. Men are taking over. What in Arda are we to do? You know how they are. They'll kill everything."

Haldir grasped the outstretched hand and heaved the wizard to his feet, kept his grip tight as Radagast found his footing. "They are not all bad."

"Funny hearing that from an elf," Radagast mused, frowning as he pulled on his hand, but found the grip too tight to break.

"I am an elf, but you know I have traveled much among all in Arda. The men will change things, you know it and worry. You cannot keep them away, wizard. It is useless to try."

"Will you let them have Lorien?"

Haldir dropped Radagast's hand, turned away to stare into the forest for a long moment. His answer was voiced so softly Radagast leaned forward to hear it.

He shivered when Haldir walked away, the no echoing in the wizard's mind, echoed more by the trees around him, the young Mallorn's defiance much like that of their hero.

OoO

Sweeney guided the boat to the dock, ducked under the wood post hanging out over the water and tied the craft in place. Esteri, gagged once more, stared daggers at him, her slanted eyes narrowed, but still gleaming in the dark shadowed depth of the boat.

He smiled at her, stood carefully to reach for the edge of the dock, got his fingers on the wood and then gritted his teeth as a foot settled firmly over his fingers.

He'd known they were there, knew this was a test. He didn't complain, gritted his teeth against the pain as the foot pressed harder.

"What do ye do there, man?"

"I've come to barter." Sweeney hoped the pain did not show in his voice, hissed it as the man standing on his fingers knelt down to look at him.

"What ye bartering?"

Sweeney nodded his head in the direction of Esteri. "I've a few things."

"Why would we want a she-elf? They ain't so friendly."

Sweeney swallowed a laugh. "It's really not for you to decide, now is it?"

The man grunted sourly and stood, removing his foot from Sweeney's fingers. "We saw ye comin'. What do ye want for her?"

Sweeney eased his fingers from the dock, stretching the kinks without shifting his gaze from Esteri. "As I said, it's not for you to decide. I'll only barter with someone who has the rank to do it. Not from you or any low life like you."

The man hissed in a breath, moved a hand toward the knife tucked into his belt but another hand held him back, stepping around to peer down at Sweeney in amusement.

"Arrogance is an elven quality most here despise."

Sweeney smiled and then shrugged, sitting back down to reach for the oars of the boat. "Fine, I'll take my offer elsewhere. The dwarves might see her as useful..."

"Now wait." The man shoved the first aside and crouched down, a hand to the long beard hiding his chin. He shoved back the hat that had shadowed his eyes and laughed softly. "Didn't mean to insult ye. Harvey here is just a lookout. We don't like to take chances. Smuggling, such things don't concern the good folk here much, for it brings in stuff they want. But elves..." He looked at Esteri, snorted when she glared back. "Elves require some delicacy, see. Should Thranduil hear of our buying such ..." he grinned, a bright smile in the darkness. "Buying such pretty offers, well... he might not take kindly to that. That, my friend, would gain us nothing but trouble."

Sweeney sniffed, gripped the oars as if unconcerned. "Not my problem. I've better things to do. If you're not interested, just say so. I'll move on."

"I didn't say we weren't interested."

Sweeney resisted the smile, looked up with a bored expression. "Then quit wasting my time."

oOo

Thranduil moved slowly along the walkway, his robes light but dragging long behind him, the silk whispering over the stone causeway. He moved absently, his fingers a light touch on the marble railing, trailing much as the robe did, fingers nearly covered by the silk.

He knew he was watched, both with curiousity and concern. He was not the elf he'd been, and most of his people knew it.

How and when had the change come about? Did he care? Did he care that the baker had followed him to Mirkwood, that Tauriel had returned if only for a short while? And why was he surprised to find he was glad to see her, and Orophin, and most disturbingly, Eria the baker?

Curse the Valar, how had she gotten such a hold on him?

How had any of them become important in a way he had not felt in a very, very long time.

"Ada."

Thranduil stopped, took a moment to look over his shoulder. "Aye?"

"They are waiting."

"Indeed?" Thranduil sniffed and turned toward the railing. Below him lay a large courtyard. A fountain gurgled faintly along one wall, flowers and trees were lit by a round hole in the ceiling above him, sunlight reaching them in long bands of filtered light.

Legolas offered a sigh, shifted to lean against the railing beside him. "You can't make them wait forever."

Thranduil smiled at his son. "Can't I?"

"Ada," Legolas replied in a disproving tone. "The longer you do, the more people wonder why? What disconcerts you so that a mere small group of supposed "friends" are made to wait as if they are important..." Legolas leaned closer, his blue eyes lit with amusement. "Or trouble."

"Lorien elves are always trouble." Thranduil moved away from the railing. "Offer them rooms. Bring Tauriel to me."

"She will not come without Orophin. Rowen is Haldir's emmissary and she will expect to be invited. The wardens will not leave their side, their role clear. Which leaves us the one person to whom you do not want to speak to, and I wonder just why?"

"Your nose does not belong in my business."

Legolas laughed, the sound echoing faintly. "So, she is your business. I see."

Thranduil groaned inwardly. When had Legolas become so manipulative? "I only mean she is not important."

"Of course she is. She came all this way to see "you" and only you, Ada. Why would anyone have such audacity unless..."

"You leave much to conjecture, Legolas. It is not acceptable."

"So say what you feel, Ada. Is that so hard?" Legolas caught Thranduil's arm as he moved past, halting his steps. "Is it really? But perhaps I should know as you rarely ever told me you loved me."

Thranduil sighed and then rested a hand over Legolas's. "I have always loved you. I loved your mother."

"But none since? Is it not time to move on, Ada?"

Move on? Thranduil shook his head with a faint smile. "I moved on long ago."

"Nay, I think not. But now is the prime moment. Someone has come to wake up your heart, which you have hidden away for too long."

Blue eyes met blue eyes, both intent, both elves silent for a long moment.

"Perhaps it cannot be woken."

Legolas smiled and dropped his hand. "It already has, back in Lorien."

His son turned away to stride casually back into the shadows. Thranduil watched him go with a rueful grimace and then he too moved into the dark hallway. It was time to confront Eria. What he was to say... Thranduil shivered. He really didn't know.

OoO