NECKLACE
Chapter 6
Disclaimer: JRR Tolkein wrote the books: New Line Cinema made the movie.
I'm going to take time out before the main feature to respond to a few of your reviews, because they're all greatly appreciated *hands out photos of Legolas, Aragorn & Haldir to all who have read and reviewed…take your pick of the guys!!*
Syvia - Yes, that Lupa! She gets about a bit, doesn't she…the Nexus gates lead everywhere…*hugs you for coming out of LegacyofKainLand to read this story*
PuterPatty- *grins* My muse has been a little preoccupied of late kicking Sarafan ass. I did have some doubts about the use of that word, but went with it anyway. *hugs* I love reading your reviews…they're always really helpful & encouraging!
Daydream - *Legolas smiles at you* If you think he's worried about a little slap? Man, he must HATE me, all the mean things I keep having happen to him ^_^
EmeraldQueen – Haldir's rarely grateful. Pretty. But not grateful.*grins*
Rosie – Thank you! (and to everyone who loved to see Haldir still breathing…some things are too good to kill off!!)
And to Mouse, BamfBabe, musicgrl-1989, klepto-maniac0, Lady Leila (oops…is this another cliffhanger or not?!) Jay of Lasgalen, Just Jill, Elven Warrior, Damn The Torpedoes, daw, Mara Aoife, White Wolf, JadeGoddess, PsychoGoddess, GreyLadyBast, Slea, bearleft, TattyCat, Sami & WinterPlum (You want a copy? See what I can do…!) - *smiles to you all* Thank you so much for reading and letting me know you like the story. And thankyou to those who put this under favourites! *looks at the above list* Wow…hope I didn't forget anyone…
Now. This is just a little bit more to keep you going, seeing as I'm off now for a couple of days. Enjoy! ^_^
Time seemed to pass slowly for many years afterwards (Legolas was continuing, as Eowyn handed Gandalf and Aragorn cups of water to drink) and the Shadow continued to grow in Middle-earth. Lupa did not return to the paths of Mirkwood, although Legolas listened often for the jingling of the copper harness on her pony. He even thought he saw her one night, running with Beorn under the stars on the edges of the trees - but there may be many wild wolves and bears in a forest, and who could pick out Lupa and Beorn from amongst them?
The orcs did not return, and neither did their captives. Thranduil's court mourned their losses grievously - some of the elves taken had been from the oldest and most respected families amongst their kind. Immortality can lead to a certain complacency - the knowledge that save injury or heartbreak, you will endure - and Thranduil's family were as guilty of this as any elf still walking under Middle-earth sky.
But now they were jaded, cautious. Thranduil ordered his borders heavily guarded. Any folk who strayed into the forest were dealt with sharply, and with great suspicion.
As for Legolas himself, he strung the wolf's claw about his own neck and took his turns on guard duty alongside what remained of the Mirkwood troops. His fellows commented that he was sullen - some even inferred, in whispers when they thought Thranduil was out of earshot, that the king's son had been touched by the shadow. But his draw with the bow was as supernaturally quick as ever it had been, better, even, and his eyes were still bright.
It happened one day, a decade or more after Yara had vanished from Middle-earth, that Legolas was leading a scout party out into the eastern copses. A warning had come from a passing Ranger that something had been seen creeping about the river, something vile. Something that was certainly not elf nor man nor dwarf nor hobbit…
The two archers at Legolas's side began to edge forward at his nod. There were three more spread out in the forest behind him, and a further two up in the canopy on watch.
Legolas, his keen eyes scanning the undergrowth, began to feel the same apprehension as he had before the orcs attacked. He had always been gifted with an uncanny ability to sense danger, even more than the rest of his kin. This felt different, somehow, though - dark, and evil, but tinged with sadness…
A bow-string sang out - one of the archers ahead had spotted something that did not belong in this part of the world. Legolas sprang forward, ready for battle. If it should be more orcs…his blood pounded through his head fiercely. He brushed branches and bushes aside, moving almost clumsily in his haste, and practically fell out into a little glade where two tall elves held a terrified, lurching creature in their sights, bow-strings straining at full draw.
They only awaited his command. And he could not give it.
Gandalf lowered his head sadly, and took his pipe from his mouth.
"It was her," he said, "was it not?"
Legolas made no reply. His eyes were still closed, a sure sign of an elf in less than good health, and his fingers were knotted compulsively in the soft leather of his jerkin.
"Legolas," the old wizard prompted, very gently.
A single tear wound its way from under one closed eyelid and streaked across the elf's pale skin.
"She had no eyes," he said, in a shadow of his former voice. "Only hollows. And I remember that I thought -"
Legolas dropped to his knees in front of the beast, which whimpered in fear and tried to hide under its own ragged clothes. Perhaps it is better, the remaining, reasoning part of his mind thought, perhaps it is better that they took her eyes from her. For now she cannot see what a travesty her body has become…