Title: No Hope
By: Yukito Kinomoto
E-mail: grissom500@yahoo.com
Rated: PG-13 for violence and angst.
Summary: Legolas finds that he has lost almost everything in one fell swoop. Orcs and Spiders have taken his father's hall and he believes Thranduil to be dead, as well as the one who he had been falling in love with. He takes his horse Galadh and flees for Rivendell, but finds he has little will to go anywhere. Once to Rivendell he gets help from Estel, his elfin brethren and Gandalf, who promise to help him reclaim the throne.
Disclaimer: Most of the characters belong to Tolkien, except a few minor elves and a horse or two. I don't know much Elfish and apologize in advance for any and all mistakes I am guaranteed to make.
Legolas was out hunting in the Misty Mountains...hunting for an end to his pain. He thought back to the events not more than four days ago...
*****************
"Your Highness!" Nilelenath, one of the female servants, staggered into the Throne Room.
"Nilelenath! You are bleeding! Where are you injured?" Legolas cried, jumping to his feet.
"Orcs...and spiders...in the palace..." she fell into the Prince's arms...dead. He looked to his father, alarmed. As Thranduil's shocked grey eyes met his son's, there at once came a commotion from the corridor outside the Throne Room.
Thranduil stood, pushing his son in front of him, and out the huge doors.
"How did they get past the gate?" cried Legolas over his shoulder.
"Who can know? We are not prepared for such an attack, we must get word to Imladris, before all hope is lost. Let us go to your room and get your weapons my son!"
They both turned down the stone corridor that led to the Prince's chambers. Legolas felt panic rise in his throat as they opened the door. How long it would be until the monster's found them? He ran frantically to the edge of his bed where he kept his bow and knife. The quiver he strapped hastily on over his flowing, pale silver and blue robes. He gave his long white sword to his father, and in the Elvenking's eyes Legolas saw a fierceness he had never seen there before, it was as if the blade had changed his entire body and made it stronger.
Legolas' keen ears heard the small rustle of spider legs outside the room and froze, his bright, grey eyes wide with fear.
Thranduil smiled reassuringly at his son, "Do not worry my son, we have defeated many spiders before, this time will be no different."
"Yes, but they were not in my home the last time I fought them."
A deep...something...kindled within Thranduil's eyes and he growled with a smile, "They are on our territory now, and have stirred a hornet's nest."
Legolas did not look as sure as his father, and Nilelenath's death weighed heavily on his mind and his heart.
There was a great pounding on the door of the room and Legolas jumped about a foot in the air in surprise.
"Ready your arrow Greenleaf, they are coming."
**********
Legolas shook his head against the blinding wind of the snow storm he was currently in. He patted his horse, Galadh, reassuringly.
"All is well, fear not." The words sounded unfounded and hollow even to him, and he knew the horse wasn't fooled. She lay her head over his shoulder and nuzzled his cheek. The memory of what had happened ran unbidden through his head. And he was so wrapped up in it, that he didn't hear, nor sense the men. Galadh did however and tried to warn him, but by then, it was too late.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter one: Peace in Rivendell
Estel, son of Elrond sat in one of Rivendell's many gardens reading a book.
"What are you reading Estel?" Elrohir asked from a tree. The young man didn't jump, he was quite used to being spoken to at strange times from even stranger places. The twins made a game of trying to scare him, but they might as well have just given up, they had trained the 18-year-old human too well.
"The story of Annûn. It is so incomplete, and I cannot find one tale that does not contradict another. It is a royal pain. Plus it's written in Sylvan, and not only that; it is an ancient form. It's frustrating."
Elrohir jumped out of the tree and sat next to him on a bench, bending his head and leaning into the young man to get a better look at the contents of the book. "Calm yourself Estel. Why don't you just translate it?"
The human rolled his eyes slightly, "Elrohir, you know how good I am at Sylvan. I have just started to learn it."
Elrohir just let the matter drop. "Isn't Annûn the Sylvan elf who is rumored to have been the first to teach the trees to speak? I can not remember all of the tale but I seem to recall..." he trailed off with a furrowed brow.
Estel gave him the leather bound book, "Thank you," said Elrohir. Then he began to read and mumbled to himself in Sindarin the entire time. When he had finished he was grinning, he closed the book gently and gave it back to Estel.
"Well?" the man prompted.
"Well what?"
Estel tipped his head down at the elf, "I may be human Elrohir, but I am your brother, and I know that look. You know something."
"Oh 'something' eh? You flatter me young one," said Elrohir with a smile.
"Spare me Elrohir, what is it? What do you know about this?"
"To say 'I know something about it' would be stretching perhaps, but I do have a suspicion."
"Well?"
Elrohir smiled and grabbed Estel's hand, "Well, let us go to the fountain of all knowledge and see if I'm right."
Estel finally smiled, "To father?"
"Of course."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Well Estel I must say, I am very impressed with your interest in history," Elrond paused and blinked in confusion, "But just out of curiosity, why are you interested in this particular story?"
Estel blushed slightly, "I...um..."
Elrond's eyes smiled at his uncomfortable mutterings, and he waved away the answer, "Never mind mele er I would rather not know."
"Nay, it is only that...well...Legolas of Mirkwood."
"Ah, I see now. He told you the story I suppose?"
"Part of it."
They were all reclining comfortably in Elrond's office. It was Estel's favorite room. The room was bright and green, but maroon and dark as well, all blended in a comfortable general warmth, it reminded him a lot of Elrond actually. The said Elf Lord was at the moment leaning back in his high backed chair, his fingers steepled and regarding his human son with an arched eyebrow.
"What part?" he asked.
"That's just it."
"Estel, you have totally lost me, explain that again, and this time use Sindarin we can all understand. I can not read your mind mele er."
Elrohir snickered.
"Keep still brother," Estel punched him in the shoulder.
Elrond shot them both a warning look, then resumed his grey-eyed smile, "Please Estel, in words we understand."
"Well, I can't remember." Elrohir snorted in amusement and tried to hide his humor. Estel rolled his eyes, and continued, "Remember when he came here for a short while when I was nine or so?" Elrond gave a minute nod accentuated with a light blink. "Well I know I was attached to him at the hip and we were great friends. I remember being so sad when he had to go home, but I tried to be brave. He knew I was grieving so he came and told me a bed-time story that last night. I fell asleep to his voice, and all I can remember is sadness, and a story about friends who were inseparable, even in death, it was overwhelming. But the only specific I can remember is the name Annûn, and that the Onodrim where in it."
"A story about Ents? They weren't mentioned in that book," said Elrohir.
"No, they are rarely in any of the old manuscripts," said Elrond, "After the elves taught them to speak they went off on their own and it was rare for them to have any interaction with any other race."
Estel held on to his every word. When Elrond stopped he looked at him expectantly. "Well?" he said, when it was obvious there was no more coming.
"Well what? I am on the wrong side of the Misty Mountains to have any first hand experience with the Onodrim, I know little of them, and less of their lore. You would do better to ask someone in the know about such things."
"Like who?"
Elrond gave him an almost scolding look, "Oh come now Estel, the one who told you the story in the first place. 'Who?' indeed."
Estel looked quickly to his brother, then back to Elrond, concealed excitement in his keen grey eyes, "You mean go to Mirkwood?"
Elrond smiled, "I would be sure to ask your mother first, but yes, I would say go."
At the mention of his mother, his face dropped visibly.
"I'm sure she will let you go Estel," said Elrohir, "You needn't look so worried."
"I'm sure she will as well, it's only..." he lapsed in to silence, his face aflame.
Elrohir looked to his father in surprise, Elrond smiled serenely at him, then turned his attention to Estel.
"What is troubling you mele er?"
He looked reluctant to answer, but he did, "She has been very keen to give me the same lecture, every time I want to do something recently."
"What about?"
Estel again looked very embarrassed, "About how I'll come to a bad end, like my human father, if I keep 'prancing about looking for trouble.'"
Elrond successfully kept the smile from his face, but it was written in his eyes. He knew how Gilraen felt. When Celebrian had left, he had not wanted his sons leaving Rivendell for anything. Estel was all Gilraen had left. "Ask her mele er, if you are really committed to this. You may be surprised by Lady Gilraen's answer," he couldn't help but smile, "Or you may not be."
It was good Elven advice and Estel had expected it, he nodded his agreement and went to find his mother.