Disclaimer.
Although a couple of these folks grew up in my head, most of them are lucky enough to belong to one Mister Tolkien, I'm just making them do stuff. Most probably against their will.

If you want to archive this, please let me know, If you have any questions, let me know, If I've made mistakes and am obviously an uneducated slattern, again, let me know. I currently don't have a beta reader, so there maybe spelling mistakes, but I try to catch as many as I can.

This is the chapter where you go yeah right, it never happened in Numenor... Keep an open mind, if the story goes to plan explanations will be given later.

Warning - we're on chapter 2 and its still fit for family viewing, no slash, slush or anything beyond a U rating. In chapters to come that might be a different story.

Very much a work in progress.

Any constructive criticism is always appreciated. So is blatant flattery. ;)


Chapter Two, The Children Of Elessar


A new season was begun ere Legolas arrived at his destination in the South, for the blossoms of Spring delighted him still and he tarried long upon his journey to see what new life the Soil had thrown up into being. Thus it was early June when he at last stood before the outer walls of Gondor, and the city gleamed and shimmered in the heat.

He touched a hand to the gate and smiled in memory, for the massive construction of mithril and steel was the workmanship of his friend, the dwarf. The seven passwords he then gave to the keeper, and announced himself. I am Legolas, Regent of the wood of Green Leaves that was Mirkwood, beyond the Misty Mountains. A friend and ally of Elessar in his lifetime I come seeking respite from my long travels in the kingdom of his son, Eldarion.

The shining gates swung upon their hinges and the elf was accepted into the city and into the presence of the Chief of Guards. Word is being sent to the King of your arrival, sir. He said, and bowed. If you will, I shall assign you an escort to take you to him.

To this Legolas consented, though he knew the way, and soon found himself lead through the seven circles of the city and into the Court of the Fountain. The king stood in the doorway to the Great Hall, for runners from the gates had brought swift news of his guest. Yet this man in the raiment of the kings of Gondor, the star bound to his forehead generations old, was not the young King that Legolas remembered from his last visit to Minas Tirith. A century that had left not a mark upon the elf was marked in lines upon Eldarion's face and in the greying of his once dark hair. Age had not touched the King's stature or demeanour, however. He held himself proudly, a true man of Westernesse, and when he spoke his voice was clear and strong.

You are welcome, Legolas, friend of the Reunited Kingdom. Always will you find hospitality here. He gestured to his side, where stood a lady, also in Royal Garb. My sister Mirarnor, and I bid you enter and eat with us. Word has been sent to rouse my sister Aewen from her studies, and she too will join us ere long.

Legolas was ushered down a long paved corridor and into the Great Hall, where, watched over by the graven images of Gondor's early Kings, tables were being laid with foods to delight any weary traveller. The elf sat at the King's side for the meal and was introduced to the other faces there, Eldarion's wife and four strong sons and also the Princess Mirarnor and her family, who looked over the City of Arnor in the North and dwelt there usually.

The faces of the Royal siblings had once been markedly fair, it was clear, both having the pale skin and bright eyes of their mother, the Evenstar of her people. They spoke animatedly, with great wit, and asked many questions of the elf, who found himself wondering why he had such little memory of the fine children of Elessar. Reason told him that his encounters with them had been brief, for at the time of his last visit they were grieving for their parents, and he for his friends. He remembered Eldarion most, who had handled well the burden of the kingdom when it was placed upon his shoulders, but the princesses were younger than their brother, and were surrounded by their ladies always, his path crossed theirs briefly, if at all. He regretted not keeping closer contact with Aragorn in the last decades of the King's life, and felt sorrow now that he should come to know the children of his friend only in the later halves of their mortal lives.

Legolas' reverie was interrupted as the doorman heralded the arrival of the princess Aewen, and he was surprised, for his sharp ears had heard no approach.

Looking up, it was as if a light had entered the room. A maiden was in the doorway, a girl who appeared in her youth, with skin pale as milk, hair raven dark yet shot through with strands of the brightest gold that shone as lightning against a stormy sky. Her eyes were sea grey, and shone so that, as she approached, Legolas fancied he could see waves crashing against the dark shores of her pupils. This was no mortal fairness, he knew, and recognised one of his own kin, and yet she had been announced as Aewen, princess of the cities of man.

Welcome, Legolas of the Nine Walkers. She said as she approached the feast table, and he saw that she walked barefoot in the palace, It is many decades since even one of the fair folk last visited Gondor, so to now play host to three must be held a rare honour.

His brow creased momentarily in confusion, until his vision widened to take in the two dark haired elves, twin sons of Elrond, that walked in her wake. With a glad cry he stood to greet his friends of old, though part of him still watched the lady, as she addressed the King.

You will forgive our tardiness, brother, for we were walking on the slopes of Mindolluin, and were not easily found.

Following the gaze of the wood elf, the brothers shared a smile. Elrohir leant forward and asked in a low voice, Are we to take this as your first encounter with our niece, Legolas? The quizzical line of your brow betrays your question.

Legolas returned his gaze to Elrond's sons. My question? He almost whispered it.

Elladan filled in, his smile making tiny creases in his smooth face.

It is always how. his brother continued. It's the question we ourselves asked. The records of Numenor and Beleriand mention nothing of the like. It was for our sister and ourselves to choose our own paths, but this path she has not chosen.

Elladan nodded. On this path she was set. Our sister was fond of saying that all things are created for a reason, and that reason is not for us to question.

But we do. Elrohir finished. Indeed so does the lady herself.



Notes on this chapter:

I hope you havn't dismissed this as a Mary Sue, because it isn't, and I don't intend for it to become one, because, god, how dull would that be. This story needs to be set in the fourth age, so characters have had to be created. I hope they will develop into multi dimensional creatures in their own right.

The question, how? will be adressed later, i promise, she was created for a reason ;)