Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to or inspired by Tolkien.
El gwedh enni
(A) Star is binding me
Chapter VII – Questing for Answers
The setting sun stained the western horizon a deep red orange, tingeing the thin blanket of clouds above a soft lavender hue. Songbirds ceased their musical conversations with one another as the day neared its end, but the vessel of the Tilion was rising in the east and so were the sounds of eventide throughout the land. Crickets chirped incessantly in the open plains and the constant shrill droning of cicadas echoed them from the trees. The cacophony of chirrups and buzzes was as night to day when compared to the silence clinging onto the company. Only the rhythmic pounding of horses' hooves on the hard dirt road provided evidence that eight riders journeyed through the land. None spoke, for none had cause or desire to speak, as other matters occupied their minds.
Understandably, the two guards riding in front, the two who rode the middle flanks, and the two behind spared thought only for how they would react were they to come under attack. The possibility was slim, for the soldiers of Gondor and the elves of Ithilien had done much over the past seven years to ensure travelers safe passage throughout the land. After the fall of Sauron, they together sought out remaining bands of Orcs and Easterlings, slaying and driving out the fell creatures and treacherous men. The strength and severity of the combined forces of Men and Elves had demonstrated that Gondor would not tolerate the servants of Sauron, and that if they ever ventured into the reunited kingdom, they would be met with cold hearts and swift blades. The remnants of Great Shadow still lurked however and so there was need to be ever watchful. The Easterlings had retreated into the south and east, just beyond the borders of Gondor, and those orcs that had not been relieved of their wretched existence cowered within the deep caverns of the Ephel Duath. Occasionally, some who possessed courageous stupidity dared to test Gondor of their word and waylaid travelers along the roads. A small trading party bringing back a shipment of fine earthenware from Harad had been attacked the previous year and two men had lost their lives. It was proof that evil yet existed in Middle-earth, and always there was a chance that awful deeds would be wrought by the cruel beings. Thus was the reason the six guards focused all of their attention on their surroundings and did not initiate idle conversation. One had to be ever mindful of anything that might suggest danger was afoot when one was charged with the duty that was bestowed upon them.
Like his guards, the king devoted much of his attention to that purpose, for he had lived a life in which it was necessary at all times to be fully aware of his environment—of noteworthy sounds and unusual silences, of strange shadows cast upon the ground, and of things that would escape any other man's senses. But naught is wrong around you, the former Ranger concluded as he took in a deep breath of the crisp evening air. It is among you that there is dissonance. Aragorn knew he was partly to blame for the weighty silence that hung about the company. He was greatly troubled and irritated and whenever he found himself in such a mood, he found those in his company sensibly kept chattering tongues still.
He had desired to leave Minas Tirith for Edhilbar early that afternoon and the wish was granted. Prince Faramir was in the White City for the upcoming annual celebration of the destruction of the One Ring. The steward was more than capable of handling the preparations and making any decisions that came with the task. In a selfish way, the king was thankful to be making this journey, as it had given him good reason to shirk the responsibility. The king's wish that had not been granted was that he would make the journey without the attendance of a royal guard unit. This was what vexed him. He had been a Ranger of the North and had trained ever since he was able to lift a sword to fight in the direst of circumstances. He had no outstanding need for another's protection as he was able to provide such for himself. Besides which, did not the showy banners that hung at the sides of the horses and the royal dress of the guards advertise that someone of great importance rode with this company, thus putting themselves in a position to attract far more danger than he would have had he been allowed to ride alone or with just one or two others?
Aragorn chuckled softly to himself, for as much as it irritated him he had no choice but to find some humor in the situation. He was the mighty ruler of Gondor who had control over all in his great kingdom...except for one little thing—he could not leave his private chambers without servant or guard or both tagging along behind him. Aragorn shook his head in defeat. You are but powerless where your own safety is concerned, O King of Gondor.
Realizing that the matter was a waste of precious thought, he turned his mind away from the presence of his guards and instead considered the elf riding with their company. Aragorn stole a quick glance toward Talathion, who sat proud upon the saddle-less back of his blue roan mare, far removed from the group of men. If he was to take partial blame for the tense silence of the company, then the elf was without a doubt the root cause of it. Legolas' warder was still very much in a foul mood despite the fact that his wish had been granted to some extent, for Aragorn made this journey in hopes to speak one last time with the young prince. Still, gloominess emanated from the elf and it pervaded the entire company.
Talathion's mood should not have surprised him nor caused him great concern, for never had he known Legolas' warder to be anything but dour. If ever a scribe was to assemble a book of great volume that contained within it the meanings of words, Aragorn was certain he would find a sketch of Talathion next to the entry of "dour." As well as severe and morose and discourteous and.... Ever was the elf gravely serious, with only one purpose in mind—protecting his prince. Aragorn was accustomed to the daunting presence of Talathion whenever Legolas visited the king and queen in the White City. It provided much fun for the royal couple. The warder was seldom very far from the one he had been charged to keep, and his constant proximity to the prince wore away at the young elf's patience. The king had been a recipient of many favors of a personal nature from his queen as he very often won the bets he made with her concerning when the son of Thranduil would finally lose his temper, and what means he would employ to hinder his warder's persistent vigilance.
Laughter began to rumble deep within Aragorn as he remembered the time when the elven prince had agreed to meet one of the more uninhibited maidens of the White City in a storage closet of the Citadel during a grand feast and ball. Legolas and Gimli had shown much cunning and craftiness in luring the warder into that same room and barring both elf and woman inside for the entire night. Needless to say, Talathion had not been pleased with the ruse, and the woman, once she realized a switch had been made, had been very disappointed with the companionship, or so Aragorn heard tell the next day from his two cheerful friends.
Aragorn attempted to conceal his laughter, but the elf still heard it and must have sensed the merriment came at his expense. Talathion swung his head around and gifted the king with a sharp look. Aragorn sobered immediately. It's going to be a long journey, Aragorn, he acknowledged to himself, as he tried to coax his horse and consequently those around him into a faster pace.
The warder's wordless reprimand succeeded in quelling his brief amusement, but it did little to stop him from further deliberating the elf and the reason for his behavior. Aragorn was aware somewhat of the inner turmoil Talathion clearly still fought. Legolas had not shared all with him, as it was not his place to do so, but he had told him enough. Aragorn knew of the personal tragedy the warder had experienced in the recent past and understood the pain of heartbreak was still fresh within his soul, for seven years was but a single brief measure in the Great Song of Ilúvatar for one who had lived so many millennia as Talathion. Aragorn could not fathom the immense sorrow and heartache of losing a wife and a son that one had loved for hundreds upon hundreds of years. Eldarion was not yet a year old and already Aragorn had developed such a close bond with the child that if anything ever happened to him he believed he would go mad, seeking vengeance against whoever had allowed harm to come to his son. Either that or he would be so stricken with grief that he would collapse within himself, so much so that not even Arwen could reach him and pull him out from the depths of despair. It scared him to think about how terribly he would react and the emotions that would plague him, to even consider that he could lose his son because of illness or accident, or worse, through the deeds of men plotting to usurp the throne of Gondor. It scared him.
Aragorn shivered as he considered the frightening possibility of the last scenario, and shook his head to rid himself of the disturbing thought. That was very elvish of you, he observed silently and scowled. It was not the first time that day that he found himself having to perform the somewhat cleansing behavior. The altercation earlier between Talathion and he had brought to the forefront of his mind many upsetting thoughts, and with those thoughts came regrets. Talathion needed not remind him that he was essentially the cause for the fading light of not one, but two of the Eldar. Not a morning went by when he would look upon the beauty of his wife lying peacefully beside him in their bed and feel remorse for the choice his love had driven her to make. He had hoped that as the years passed by, those feelings would pass as well. But such was not the case—with each rising of the sun, the knowledge of her eventual death weighed heavier upon his heart and mind.
Stop this brooding, Aragorn! Arwen made her choice freely, as did Legolas. You are no more responsible for the direction their lives have taken than you are for the washing of floors in the Citadel.
The king rubbed his temple, willing his mind to return to pondering Talathion, specifically the odd request he had made earlier that day. Aragorn had agreed to make the trip to Edhilbar because he truly did desire to bid farewell to Legolas before the young elf departed Middle-earth. Talathion, however, desired something more from him. What spawned that desire confounded Aragorn. The warder had made no attempt to conceal his almost manic desire that Legolas remain in Middle-earth when he had confronted Aragorn that morning, and this behavior made no sense to him. True, elves experienced emotions far more intensely than most mortals, but they maintained firm control over the display of such emotions. It was most unlike an elf to let panic or pain be known to another, especially one outside their race. And it was no secret that Talathion harbored ill feelings toward those mortals the prince considered friends, particularly toward the king. But by staying in Middle-earth, Legolas' friendship with both Aragorn and Gimli would continue and only grow stronger and deeper as the years passed. Surely this was not what the warder desired.
"We should start to set up camp, Your Majesty, while there is still some light," the captain of his guard said, breaking the silence and interrupting Aragorn's ponderings.
Aragorn breathed an audible sigh, brought his horse to a gradual stop, and visually assessed the wishes and needs of those gathered around him. The bothered look on the elf's face and the stamping of his horse's hooves upon the road told him that Talathion was against a halt for the night and was anxious to continue their journey. Aragorn felt much as Talathion did, for he had spent a long winter cooped up within the stone walls of the White City and this was the former Ranger's first real excursion of the spring. Of course, the purpose of the journey did not escape his consideration; Aragorn did not want to find he had missed Legolas because they had tarried along the road. Roheryn, his horse, was capable of continuing on through the night with little rest and so was Talathion's steed since both were elven bred. Nonetheless, the other horses were tiring and in need of rest, as were the guards they bore.
Aragorn nodded his approval of a halt. "That copse of trees will be our resting ground for the night," he said, ignoring Talathion's deliberate grunt and urging Roheryn forward.
The company reached the site of their camp shortly. Arien had yet to fully hide her face, but darkness would be upon them soon. Three of the guards were sent to scout the area to ensure all was aright and to collect kindling for a fire. The other three remained behind, securing the horses and unpacking rations and bedrolls. Aragorn performed a quick survey of the area and found Talathion standing at the far edge of the trees, gazing out at the gently rolling hills before him, one hand resting lightly on his horse's back. Ignoring his desire to sit down and enjoy the companionship of his pipe, Aragorn approached the elf. Questions concerning the warder's reasons for wanting Legolas to remain in Middle-earth still beset his mind. Now was as good a time as any to try to gain some answers to those questions.
"What do you see?" Aragorn asked, attempting to engage Talathion in small talk first. It was a tactic that had worked many times against both Elrond and Gandalf whenever he had wanted knowledge the two were not willing to impart. Aragorn drew in a silent breath and hoped Talathion would fall prey to the device just as they oftentimes had.
"Why do you care?" the elf asked testily.
Aragorn scratched a nonexistent itch on the back of his head. You have your work cut out for you against this one.
"The eyes of elves see many things a man's cannot. Doubtless you can glimpse the great forest in which Edhilbar lies." Aragorn paused to carefully consider how he would proceed to steer their conversation. "Legolas and I camped here one night a few years back," he said casually. "He told me the furthest thing he could see. I wonder who has the keener eyes—the prince or his warder?" he put forth playfully.
"What does it matter?" Talathion questioned in reply, his tone conveying he had little patience to participate in the game.
"Humor me," Aragorn answered as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"I see farther than the prince ever has and ever will."
Aragorn's mind dwelled briefly on the possible meanings of the elf's words. Then the man allowed a small chuckle to escape. "I'm sure Legolas would give a similar answer had I presented him with the question," he pointed out. "Prove it," he said, jerking his head up minutely. "Tell me what you see."
The elf snapped around to face the king. Grey eyes locked onto grey eyes. "You do not want to know what it is I see," Talathion warned, holding Aragorn's gaze for a long moment. Finally, the warder broke away and let out a long exasperated sigh. "For what purpose do you bother me with this guff, Elessar? What is it you truly wish to know?"
"I would have you tell me your reasons for wanting Legolas to remain in Middle-earth," Aragorn said straightforwardly. You should have known better, Aragorn. He is much like Legolas; direct is always best.
"My reasons are the same as your reasons."
Aragorn ran a hand through his thick hair, silently cursing the innate elven talent for elusive answers. "I fail to follow your logic, Talathion. I do not want Legolas to stay. Not if he must suffer the Call of the Sea. I want only what is best for him. I have no reasons for wanting him to stay," he pointed out, strength behind his words.
"If that is true, then you are a poorer king than I thought, Elessar," Talathion spat.
Anger seethed within the former Ranger, but he checked it, recognizing the elf had sought to elicit such a response from him. "What mean you?" Aragorn demanded, devoting much effort to keeping his tone even.
The elf turned away to face the wide expanse in front of them. "You asked what it is that I see when I look out upon this land, and so I will tell you," Talathion declared at last, his voice suddenly smooth. "I see a land that was devastated by brutal hands of Orcs and Men. I see a land that still bears these wounds deeply." The warder paused, allowing Aragorn just enough time to wonder when he had relinquished control of their conversation and where it was now going. "Would you know what it is that I hear as well?" Talathion questioned, glancing over at Aragorn, who gestured vaguely for him to continue. "I hear Arda crying out. She weeps in pain and curses the ones who caused it. Resentment festers within her, but she welcomes the Fair Folk and calls out to us in gratitude for the love and care we show her."
Aragorn nodded solemnly, sensing the truth in the elf's words. "The Fair Folk have done much to heal her wounds," he said. "For that, we are all grateful."
"Our work is far from complete, Elessar," Talathion scolded. "You fail to perceive how deeply her pain lies. Would you have us abandon this cause, cease this work?"
"No, of course not," Aragorn replied, taken somewhat aback by the question. What does the elf take me for?
The warder took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as he spoke his next words. "Should Legolas heed the Call of the Sea, do you know what will become of Edhilbar?"
Aragorn made to answer but was unable as the change of topic caught him slightly off guard.
"It will diminish, just as the realms of Imladris and Lothlorien have begun to do," the elf answered for him. "Alas, it is strange and very ill that such should be the case." Talathion paused briefly, and for an instant his eyes seemed to fix themselves on something far away. Then, just as quickly, he brought them back into sharp focus. "It was the youth of my people who followed the prince to Ithilien. They still find delight in this land, for much of this world is new to them and excites them. Eagerly but foolishly have they forgotten those dark days not too long gone when all Middle-earth was clouded in Shadow." Talathion's head shook with disdain. "They have never before experienced a time when one no longer need fear that Shadow. It is for that very reason that the dawning of this age brings much joy to them. But they did not experience the great days of my people, the days when Gondolin and Doriath were the elven strongholds, when it was the Eldar who held the fate of Middle-earth in their hands." Talathion's eyes met Aragorn's. Dark grey storm clouds had settled over his pools. "They removed themselves to Ithilien so they would be closer to the sea. Though they do not yet feel its pull, they know it will come. Many want it to come. I doubt not some would have left these shores already, even had they not heard its call. Know you why they stay?" Talathion's eyebrows drew together expectantly as he seemed to consider the worth of the king.
For a moment, Aragorn thought he had misheard the elf's question. "This world still delights them. You have just said as much yourself," he finally replied.
"Middle-earth is not what holds them here," the elf corrected harshly. "Aman offers far more beauty, and they would find much more delight in that enchanted land, untainted by mortal beings. They remain here not because they are bound to this land. Though they desire to see Ithilien's hurts healed, that is not the reason they stay, nor was it the reason they removed themselves here in the first place. Think you that they would subject themselves to live in a place where they must suffer so much contact with your race?" he scoffed. "Nay, they were content living in Eryn Lasgalen, for the darkness has been lifted over that great forest, and they would find more delight under the trees of their homes than they ever would here." Talathion shook his head slightly. "They came and they stay because of Legolas," he explained, his voice turning momentarily placid at the mention of his prince, but the warder's scorn promptly returned as he continued his harangue. "It was his desire to establish a settlement here, to restore Ithilien to its prior beauty. Without him, the land of this kingdom would be as despicable as its nobility." Aragorn grimaced inwardly at the contempt dripping from Talathion's words. "You owe him much, King of Gondor. Your kingdom will be made great by the work of the prince. But that will not come to pass should he leave. The others would abandon this cause without the prince's vision to guide and sustain them. Do you understand now why it is in your best interest that he stay?"
Aragorn did not answer for a time and Talathion thankfully did not push him to do so. Much of what the elf said had some base in the truth, Aragorn knew. While there were a few exceptions, Talathion being one of them, the elves Legolas had brought with him to Ithilien were quite young by elven standards. And as all young elves were, they were eager but capricious. He had known for some time that when Legolas finally did depart from the shores of Middle-earth, the elven settlement in Ithilien would eventually disband, some following the prince's path, others returning to Thranduil's kingdom in Eryn Lasgalen. While they would leave Ithilien in a far better condition than when they came, the land would not be fully restored to its splendor. It would take many years before that would ever be accomplished. Yes, what Talathion said made complete sense to the king.
Aragorn shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "Your explanation fails to fulfill my original request," he finally said, recalling his original purpose in subjecting himself to the discussion. "What reasons do you have for wanting Legolas to remain? You have made clear on several occasions your dislike for me. Why would you seek to accomplish something that would be to my benefit?"
"You speak untrue, Elessar. I do not dislike you." Mock hurt filled the elf's saccharine voice. "I abhor you," he amended, his tone turning bitter and coarse. "But even more so, I loathe that Men gain clout over the fate and well-being of Arda. Men are weak and foolish and selfish, but you have much strength and will, and that is a dangerous combination. I foresee Arda will suffer once again under your rule."
Aragorn fought hard once again to control the anger stirring within him. It is Talathion who speaks untrue, Aragorn. You know this! The elf is not being forthright. He is hiding something. Play his game a while longer. "Ah, now I understand," he said, feigning enlightenment. "Legolas must to stay so that the presence of the elves will at least ensure that we bring no harm to the land."
"Precisely," Talathion said curtly, a note of warning in his voice.
"It is quite noble of you to forestall your own crossing over of the sea," Aragorn said, cocking his head expectantly.
The elf's eyes burned with fury upon hearing his words.
It seems you have hit a sore spot, Aragorn. Perhaps this discussion has not been for nothing. "No doubt you desire reprieve from the ills you have experienced in this world," he said, adding another coal to the fire.
No reply came from the warder, but none was needed to tell Aragorn that he had hit his mark. Talathion stood tensely and glared at Aragorn, a severe yet haunting glare that seemed to chill the air around them. Having lived with elves for much of his life, Aragorn was quite adept at withstanding the weighty gaze of an elf, yet rarely had he experienced a glare so intense and piercing as the one with which Talathion gifted him now. Almost it seemed to rival that of Sauron.
"I will find no peace there," the elf spoke finally, his voice cold and emotionless.
"Talathion, I—"
"Silence," the warder hissed. "You would do well to keep your empty words to yourself, King of Gondor."
Talathion leapt onto his horse in one fluid yet rigid motion, and Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief as he was released from the glare. The elf turned his head toward Aragorn, fixing him once more with a heavy gaze. "I trust you to find your way to Edhilbar. Do not disappoint me in this, Elessar," he advised harshly as he spurred his horse into a gallop.
Aragorn watched regretfully until elf and horse disappeared over the rolling hills, Arien withdrawing her last rays of light from the western horizon.
~~~
Legolas pulled back on the cord strung tautly between the two ends of the curved wood, seeking to reacquaint himself with the quirks of the bow. Its weight was different, heavier; and the wood felt strangely smooth under the grasp of his left hand. He released the string but kept his hand near to it, feeling the vaguely familiar vibrations of the flaxen cord. The elf cocked his head as he listened intently to the slightly higher pitched twang of the bow, calling to mind the distant memory of when he last heard that note in the dark mines of Moria, just before it fell to the cold stone floor as he gazed in disbelief and fear at the Balrog.
Legolas shook his head, disregarding the memory, and fitted one of the arrows he had fletched that morning to the string. His keen eyes searched the trees around him for a suitable target. Finally, he spotted one that would do—a knot halfway up the trunk of an old oak tree that stood a great distance away. Legolas drew back on the string of the bow and narrowed his eyes in concentration, judging both the angle and the distance of his shot. A slight breeze from the south feathered across his face and he took it into consideration as well, adjusting his stance appropriately. The elf set the arrow to flight and watched its graceful journey through the air, grimacing as it hit the tree.
"You were off to the right, Legolas."
Legolas started at the sound of the voice, for he had not heard the speaker's approach. He scowled as he turned to address his friend, hiding the bow nonchalantly behind his back. "I can see that for myself, Celebhil. I need not you to point this out."
"Nay, that is true," Celebhil said, mirth stealing into his bright green eyes. "But it appears you are in need of an archery lesson. Might I be of assistance in this, my prince?"
"Nay, Celebhil," Legolas answered curtly. He glanced around the practice field in search of something that might provide a brief distraction.
"What is it, Legolas? Is something amiss?" Celebhil inquired, following the prince's glimpses.
Nothing suitable presented itself. "It is nothing," he sighed, disappointed.
"Ai, I see! You seek out a closer target, one you will be able to hit. Perhaps that will do," Celebhil said, pointing toward a tall poplar that stood barely twenty feet away.
"I see a fine target standing in front of me," Legolas warned.
Celebhil laughed. "My, but you are a prickly one this day. Your aim was not that terrible," he soothed mockingly. "You need not be overly upset with yourself."
"It was not my aim," Legolas corrected tersely. Valar, make him stop!
"If it is not the archer, then the fault must lie with the instrument. But surely the great bow of the Galadhrim is not to blame?" The elf's words brimmed with skepticism.
"Nay, it is not," Legolas assured.
Celebhil looked at him doubtfully. "One of your answers would prove to be untrue. You would perjure yourself to me, my prince?" he inquired, bringing his hand to his heart, a look of deep hurt dancing upon his face.
"Nay, I do not," he answered simply. Legolas bristled inside. He could not take much more of Celebhil's questioning and he knew the elf would soon discover what it was that he wished to hide. The prince's mind began to whirl as he sought a possible explanation.
"I choose to believe that the fault lies not in my comrade and my prince whom I have respected highly and followed indubitably for nearly two thousand years," Celebhil said with excessive reverence. "Thus, it must lie with the bow. Allow me to see it. Perhaps we together might find its fault and resolve the problem."
Legolas' hand clutched the bow tighter behind his back. "That will not be necessary, Celebhil," he said, steeling his voice and his gaze.
"I mind not, Legolas," he said, taking a step toward the prince.
Legolas took a step back in response.
"What do you hide?" Celebhil asked, tilting his head slightly as he took another step closer.
"Leave off, Celebhil," Legolas advised.
"Legolas?" the elf questioned playfully.
"Celebhil," Legolas replied coldly.
Celebhil bolted forward, but Legolas had been expecting the move from his friend. He turned at the same instant and started to run, his strides long and quick and his arms pumping wildly, his left hand still keeping its firm grip on the bow.
"Where will you go, Legolas?" Celebhil called out. "You cannot escape!"
Legolas continued to run, ignoring the inevitable truth of his friend's words. His eyes scoured the trees in front of him and he glimpsed a branch hanging low. He turned abruptly, willing his legs to carry him farther and faster. Legolas chanced a quick look over his shoulder and saw that his sudden change of course had failed in furthering the distance between he and Celebhil. Legolas turned his head forward again, concentrating on the path in front of him. The branch was rapidly approaching. Celebhil may be faster on the ground, but in the trees he is a maladroit troll, Legolas assured himself as he launched his body off the ground and reached out his free hand to grasp the branch. He pulled himself upward as fast as he could manage, but was slowed somewhat by the lack of use of his other hand. One leg swung up onto the branch, and Legolas was promptly poised to spring further up into the tree's boughs. He started to draw his other leg up, but before he could accomplish the move, Celebhil's strong hands clamped firmly around his ankle and calf, pulling him downward. Legolas cried out as he lost his balance on the branch. He hit the ground hard, landing on his back, and gasped for air. Quick as flash, Celebhil situated himself atop the prince, straddling his legs so securely that he could not budge. His hands seized Legolas' wrists and held them tightly against the ground. Thranduil's son made a valiant effort to free himself, but his attempts were in vain as his friend had the leverage. There was no way the prince was getting out of this fix.
Legolas' eyes met Celebhil's in a hard stare.
Celebhil bent close, bringing his face mere inches from Legolas', and smiled wryly. "Do you yield?"
Legolas turned his head to the side, breaking the stare. Celebhil's hot, rapid breaths beat against his burning cheek.
"Do you yield?" Celebhil asked again, more forcibly.
"Yes," Legolas conceded angrily, snapping his head around in frustration and fixing Celebhil with a feral look. "Now unhand me, you git!"
Celebhil released Legolas' wrists and leaned back on his haunches, still preventing any movement of Legolas' legs. The wry smile remained upon his face but was twisting into one of smug mischievousness.
Legolas sat up as best he could, leaning back on his hands for support. "Get off," he growled.
"You need only ask, my prince," Celebhil said genially, as he repositioned himself into a crouched position over Legolas.
Legolas tried to take the opportunity to gift his friend with repayment for his humiliation, but Celebhil was too quick. The prince scowled at the elf who now sat safely cross-legged across from him, hands resting upon the bow he held in his lap.
"So this is what you sought to hide." Celebhil picked up the bow, ran his fingers across the wood, and then plucked the string. "What is this?"
The prince rubbed his wrists, studying the faint red marks Celebhil's strong grip had created upon them. "It is a bow," Legolas answered plainly, looking up.
Celebhil scowled. "I know that," he said, his words possessing a biting tone.
Legolas' eyes grew wide with virtue. "I simply answered the question you asked," he pointed out. "There is no need to charge me with ineptitude when it is you who falls short."
Celebhil's brows drew together in stern concentration. "Why do you use this bow and not the one given to you by Galadriel?"
Legolas peered up at the bright blue sky peeking through the lush green leaves of the trees overhead. It was not the first time the youngest son of Thranduil found himself in a situation in which one wanted an explanation he did not want to give. Over his two thousand years, he had had to dodge many a question poised to him by not only his sire, but also his older brothers and his warder, even Aragorn a time or two. He was quite masterful, even for an elf, at the delicate art of forming responses that essentially answered the question but strayed far from what the inquiring mind actually wanted to know. Unfortunately, Celebhil was rather adept at the game himself, learning well from the prince during their many exploits. It would be prove nigh unto impossible for either elf to accomplish his objective, and Legolas had no doubt that they would be at it throughout the entire night and well into the next day before one of them finally forfeited. Legolas decided it best to take a different tactic.
"Were all accounted for on your planting team?" he asked, posturing himself regally.
"You cheat, Legolas. You cannot change the subject. You must answer my question," Celebhil reprimanded, his tone reminding Legolas greatly of an elfling who had not yet seen his third decade.
"I must answer no one's question. I am your prince, Celebhil. It is you who must answer mine," he admonished, doing his best impersonation of Thranduil.
"You released me from all obligations to you centuries ago. I no longer am bound to answer to you," Celebhil said self-righteously.
Legolas felt a surge of regal mischievousness within him. "Then I, Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen and Lord of Edhilbar, hereby decree that all privileges and liberties priorly granted to Celebhil Astaldion, a mere esquire in my court, are to be surrendered from this day forth."
Celebhil's face fell in disbelieving shock. "You can't do that," he protested, forgetting to close his mouth.
"I just did," Legolas observed smugly. "My judgment stands, as does my question. Answer me," he ordered, maintaining his princely decorum.
Celebhil glowered, grumbling at the ground distasteful words that Legolas was able to hear but not quite able to decipher.
"You keep your prince waiting, Celebhil," Legolas sang. He was gifted with a deadly look from his friend, causing him to laugh heartily. "If it will appease you, I may consider answering what questions you have, but only once you have answered all of mine."
"So be it, my lord," Celebhil grudgingly complied, setting the bow aside. "All elves assigned to the north team were more or less accounted for."
"More or less?" Legolas asked, amused and seeking further qualification.
"Yes, more or less."
"Celebhil…," Legolas cautioned.
"Two or three of us may have snuck off for a time," the elf admitted, his words haste. "Albeit a very short time," he continued, a note of complaint entering his voice.
Legolas fixed his friend with a curious look, but Celebhil refused to meet his gaze, instead finding the grass in front of him to be in dire need of his scrutiny. Legolas knew there was far more here than Celebhil wanted to detail to him and probably more than Legolas wanted to know, or even should know. The prince decided to have mercy on his friend and abandoned the topic for the time being. The truth will out eventually. "Then none left the immediate area of the planting fields?" he inquired instead.
Celebhil's brow knitted as he looked up at Legolas. It was obvious the elf had been expecting his friend to pursue knowledge of who the two or three were and exactly what it was that they had been up to. "Nay," he answered.
Puzzlement knitted itself upon Legolas' brow in turn. The prince had hoped that Celebhil's answers might provide him with a possible explanation of who it was that had provided the woman with the rabbit. But his line of questioning appeared to be going nowhere fast. Legolas knew it was doubtful that an elf would have left the site of the plantings and ventured that far away and into his glade. And the timing to accomplish such was tight, for the glade was nearly half day's journey away from both Edhilbar and the nearest fields. In any case, if it had been an elf who had chanced upon the woman, Legolas was certain her rediscovery would have been promptly reported back to him.
Legolas rubbed the back of his neck as feelings of disconcertion stirred within him for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. All this is brought upon by that woman, he realized irritably, recalling his already bad day which was progressively getting worse.
Upon his return to Edhilbar late the night before, he had slipped thankfully unseen back to his dwelling. Only an old grey owl had taken notice of him, letting out a delighted hoot at the sight of the naked elf creeping through the wood. But things had gone downhill from there. He had not been able to find rest during the night, for he was too busy chastising himself for the choice he had made that afternoon in the glade. To put himself in that predicament in the first place was poor planning and clear evidence that the elf severely lacked good judgment. But the result of his choice was what actually irked Legolas. In deciding to forego the rather exposed encounter with the women and to instead steal away into the woods, the elf had left his clothing behind. If it had been as insignificant as that, he would not have minded in the least. However, as the cruel fates would have it, clothing was not the only item abandoned. His beloved bow and quiver, cherished gifts from Galadriel, had rested upon the west bank of the stream as well. Legolas was sick with regret and self-loathing for allowing that to occur. Why I did not think to place my belongings on the east bank near to the trees I will never know!
Beyond that, the elf's horse was missing. He had desired greatly to take Arod out for a relaxing jaunt that morning, but when he entered the stables, the stall was empty and no horse could be found. Legolas' immediate explanation for such was that one of the planting teams had enlisted Arod's aid in transporting supplies. But Arod is too proud for that, he reminded himself. He has deemed it bad enough that he should be forced to haul Gimli around. Besides which, one of the elves would have thought to ask the prince himself if his horse could be borrowed for the task. He had inquired of some who remained in Edhilbar about Arod's whereabouts, but each had thought that the prince was responsible for the absence of the horse. Legolas tried numerous times to convince himself that either Arod had managed to somehow open the gate himself or someone had done so for him, though what reason they would have for doing so perplexed him even more. The fact that Arod had not responded to his whistles did not cause him to be too overly concerned however. He is a fickle as a foal, and is probably out having his own amorous encounter, Legolas reasoned, glancing at Celebhil.
"Legolas?"
Legolas realized he had not spoken for quite a few minutes and was surprised Celebhil had not interrupted his ponderings sooner. "It is nothing," Legolas said, then smiled half-heartedly.
Celebhil nodded weakly. The elf's shoulders slouched ever so slightly, and the lighthearted play and amusement that the two friends had so easily shared and eagerly enjoyed just moments before seemed to drift away in the subtle breeze. Legolas winced inwardly as regret pricked his heart.
"Know you where Arod is?" Legolas asked, feeling a sudden and overwhelming need to share some of his concerns with his friend.
"Nay," Celebhil answered. "He is missing?"
"He was not in the stables when I went there this morning, and he did not come back when I called for him," Legolas explained.
"Strange," Celebhil said, his voice trailing off.
"Indeed," Legolas replied, and a veil of silence dropped over the two friends again. Legolas watched intently as Celebhil's fingers played with the grass in front of him.
"Talathion was acting rather peculiar yesterday," Celebhil finally said, breaking the silence but keeping his eyes on the ground.
"That is nothing new," Legolas reminded him. "How so this time?" he prodded.
"I informed him of your decision to leave and something seemed to come over him, to possess him. He does not want you to go, Legolas." Celebhil's head shook forlornly. "Neither do I, but I know it is best. I am glad we had this time together though," he said sadly, bringing his gaze up. "I did not expect to find you here, but I am glad I did. When will you leave?"
Legolas' brow furrowed. "Of what do you speak, Celebhil? I have made no decision to leave."
"You said so yesterday, just after the planting ceremony," Celebhil replied.
"Nay, I did not."
"Yes, you did," Celebhil contended. "You said that you had other matters to attend to, that you needed provisions, that you had to depart, and that we would see each other again, soon," Celebhil remembered carefully, counting the different statements on his fingers.
Legolas laughed for a long moment at his friend's unfortunate blunder. Celebhil only looked at him expectantly, his eyes pleading for explanation.
"Does this not constitute seeing each other again, soon?" Legolas asked between his mirthful expulsions.
"You have been associating with mortals far too much, Legolas," Celebhil scolded, failing to join in the merriment that came about at his expense. "Again and soon have very different connotations for an elf," he clarified brusquely, crossing his arms resolutely.
Legolas struggled in bringing his laughter to a halt. "My sincerest apologies, friend. I will attempt to be more mindful of this in the future," he said, sniggers bursting forth periodically.
Celebhil's stern gaze did not ease up.
"How may I make it up to you?" Legolas asked, seeking to bring cheer back to his friend.
Celebhil raised an eyebrow and Legolas watched as muted green pools glanced about the trees. It did not take long for the elf's expression to brighten, revealing his success in finding something to be of his liking. Legolas tracked his friend's glimpses and his gaze fell beside Celebhil. His stomach sank as Celebhil picked up the bow, a gleam creeping into the elf's eyes.
"Explain this," Celebhil said, his tone telling Legolas he would not be dissuaded.
"It is a long story," Legolas sighed.
"Long for an elf, or long for a mortal?"
Legolas stifled the urge to raise an eyebrow. "Long for both."
"We have all eternity," Celebhil pointed out, placing one elbow upon a knee and resting his chin in his hand, settling in to listen.
"Yes. Yes, we do," Legolas nodded his agreement. "But before I tell you, you must guarantee me one thing...."
"And that would be, my prince...?"
"Promise you will tell none of this to Talathion," Legolas said, grimacing at the faint note of dread that errantly entered his voice.
Celebhil eye's sparkled with glee. "Only if you promise to reinstate my privileges and liberties first."
***********
A/N:
Tilion – the Maia who steers the Moon
Arien – the Maia who guides the Sun
Arda – Middle-earth
Aman – the land in the West, where Valinor is
Eryn Lasgalen – the new name of Mirkwood
Thranduilion – son of Thranduil
Astaldion – son of Astald
Not sure this is worth mentioning, but in my Middle-earth universe, Legolas is not quite two thousand years old. I like the idea that he never knew Greenwood the Great. Shadow fell on Greenwood is 1050 (Third Age); it is now the year 3026. I didn't pin down a specific year for his birth—that would be just plain obsessive. [Legoals: Like she's not obsessed already?]
Also, if you're a stickler for details and are lucky enough to possess a mind that remembers everything, you might find some minor inconsistencies from previous chapters (the number of days that have passed , what bank of the river Legolas left his clothes on, etc., etc.). I have revised these things either to better suit my needs or to fit the picture I have in my mind. I replaced the chapters when I posted this, so if you are a new reader (welcome!), the changes may not have taken affect yet. They really are minor and trivial and were only made because this author is an annoying perfectionist, so they shouldn't affect the story.
Is it just me, or does anyone else out there kind of feel that Legolas and Celebhil should be more than "just friends" or at least have had some sort of history along that line? I know some of you aren't into that kind of thing—I wasn't at first either and I do prefer our favorite elf with the opposite sex whenever he is paired—so I assure you that nothing of the sort will happen between them in this story. But I could be compelled to write a backstory that explores their relationship.... (But only when this is finished.)
Response to Reviewers
Al & Legolas – Thanks for the excellent job beta'ing! Sorry though-- I am the author; hence, I am the one in control of who gets inserted as what in this story, and so I am the fish! Muahahaha. Thanks for letting me know your wish though. Maybe you should get Legolas to talk to Gandalf when he goes back; the wizard might be able to turn you into a fish. Aw, the way Legolas sleeps sounds so adorable. He makes a snuffling sound?! Is it like how Big Bird snuffles? You know who Big Bird is—right, Legolas? [No, Legoals—I didn't mean that big bird! Now that's just plain rude. Ai, Valar.]
Mija – And very nice of you to review. Thanks! So I see that you, too, want to be a fish. Well, I might possibly let you be a fish in that stream.... But just so you know—I am THE fish.
Stimpy, formerly Joy Took – Welcome, welcome! I'm glad you're here. And thank you for reviewing. You're impressed? And not just impressed, but hugely impressed? That makes me feel really good! Thanks! I hope you continue to be entertained.
jenolas – Poor Talathion (copyright jenolas) indeed! And Poor Aragorn (copyright PuterPatty) too. Actually, I think the king does a pretty good job holding his own against the elf, but I never get to use my phrase, so "Poor Aragorn" (copyright PP) away. [No, no, don't pour him away, Legoals. Ai, Valar.] The mysterious woman does have perfect timing, doesn't she? And no, you need not comment on the nekkid bathing—I know exactly what you're thinking. Thanks for the review.
TreeHugger – Wow! Your review was so long, I think I'd end up writing a whole chapter just responding to the highlights alone. Keep it up though—I love it! And you love Talathion?! I think you made the warder blush! Seriously though, credit must be given to you and all the other wonderful reviewers for providing the inspiration to make Talathion into something much more than he was originally supposed to be. I'm quite proud of him so thank you for being part of the catalyst in his development.
YellowSun – I had a dream last night that you actually did get to leave a signed review. Very weird, and it was in color and I hardly ever remember my dreams in color. Strange.... No matter, signed or unsigned—I'll take them all! So thanks. Yes, seven circles, I'm sure. And no, that wasn't the self-insert. But I suppose it could refer to me. Well, the pointed ears part anyway; golden hair is simply an added bonus. Of course, Elrohir and Elladan are just as enticing and they have dark hair (not that you would know that, or even care.) And I think the better question to ask would be how would the wet, nekkid elf react to me reacting to the wet, nekkid elf.
Ithilien – I'm glad to hear there's no Mary Sue here yet. Thanks for keeping a lookout for her. There really hasn't been much opportunity for her yet, but the Legolas/OC part is drawing near (after one or two chapters, I think--Talathion's been demanding a lot of attention). Anyway, I hope that will continue to be the case. Keep thinking along those metaphorical lines when it does come. LOL—Talathion does need to take a chill pill; I'll have to pick some up for him at Walgreens. I don't think Arwen's Naproxen Sodium will work for the problems he's got. ;)
Melian – Wow, three reviews. And another long one! And some many intriguing insights about Talathion! Girl, you have got to stop making those great comments about him, else we're never going to get to the romance part! And you wouldn't want that to happen, would you? No, no, I kid. Keep those wonderful remarks coming—the characters are taking this fic in an entirely different direction than I ever envisioned and I'm having lots of fun just tagging along wherever they go. Ah yes, the fish—I'll enroll you in the school too.
Bride of Legolas – Not sure when you'll make it here—but I hope you do—thanks for the review on chapter two. Er, one. But that just rhymed so nicely, I had to go with it. Hot DAMN?! Thanks!
Thanks to all the silent readers and especially those two or three out there of who are checking almost weekly(?)/daily(?) to see if I've updated. It really makes me want to write faster! Unfortunately this is a busy time of year. I have no idea when the next update will come, but I'll try my best not to make you wait a month for it again.
(A) Star is binding me
Chapter VII – Questing for Answers
The setting sun stained the western horizon a deep red orange, tingeing the thin blanket of clouds above a soft lavender hue. Songbirds ceased their musical conversations with one another as the day neared its end, but the vessel of the Tilion was rising in the east and so were the sounds of eventide throughout the land. Crickets chirped incessantly in the open plains and the constant shrill droning of cicadas echoed them from the trees. The cacophony of chirrups and buzzes was as night to day when compared to the silence clinging onto the company. Only the rhythmic pounding of horses' hooves on the hard dirt road provided evidence that eight riders journeyed through the land. None spoke, for none had cause or desire to speak, as other matters occupied their minds.
Understandably, the two guards riding in front, the two who rode the middle flanks, and the two behind spared thought only for how they would react were they to come under attack. The possibility was slim, for the soldiers of Gondor and the elves of Ithilien had done much over the past seven years to ensure travelers safe passage throughout the land. After the fall of Sauron, they together sought out remaining bands of Orcs and Easterlings, slaying and driving out the fell creatures and treacherous men. The strength and severity of the combined forces of Men and Elves had demonstrated that Gondor would not tolerate the servants of Sauron, and that if they ever ventured into the reunited kingdom, they would be met with cold hearts and swift blades. The remnants of Great Shadow still lurked however and so there was need to be ever watchful. The Easterlings had retreated into the south and east, just beyond the borders of Gondor, and those orcs that had not been relieved of their wretched existence cowered within the deep caverns of the Ephel Duath. Occasionally, some who possessed courageous stupidity dared to test Gondor of their word and waylaid travelers along the roads. A small trading party bringing back a shipment of fine earthenware from Harad had been attacked the previous year and two men had lost their lives. It was proof that evil yet existed in Middle-earth, and always there was a chance that awful deeds would be wrought by the cruel beings. Thus was the reason the six guards focused all of their attention on their surroundings and did not initiate idle conversation. One had to be ever mindful of anything that might suggest danger was afoot when one was charged with the duty that was bestowed upon them.
Like his guards, the king devoted much of his attention to that purpose, for he had lived a life in which it was necessary at all times to be fully aware of his environment—of noteworthy sounds and unusual silences, of strange shadows cast upon the ground, and of things that would escape any other man's senses. But naught is wrong around you, the former Ranger concluded as he took in a deep breath of the crisp evening air. It is among you that there is dissonance. Aragorn knew he was partly to blame for the weighty silence that hung about the company. He was greatly troubled and irritated and whenever he found himself in such a mood, he found those in his company sensibly kept chattering tongues still.
He had desired to leave Minas Tirith for Edhilbar early that afternoon and the wish was granted. Prince Faramir was in the White City for the upcoming annual celebration of the destruction of the One Ring. The steward was more than capable of handling the preparations and making any decisions that came with the task. In a selfish way, the king was thankful to be making this journey, as it had given him good reason to shirk the responsibility. The king's wish that had not been granted was that he would make the journey without the attendance of a royal guard unit. This was what vexed him. He had been a Ranger of the North and had trained ever since he was able to lift a sword to fight in the direst of circumstances. He had no outstanding need for another's protection as he was able to provide such for himself. Besides which, did not the showy banners that hung at the sides of the horses and the royal dress of the guards advertise that someone of great importance rode with this company, thus putting themselves in a position to attract far more danger than he would have had he been allowed to ride alone or with just one or two others?
Aragorn chuckled softly to himself, for as much as it irritated him he had no choice but to find some humor in the situation. He was the mighty ruler of Gondor who had control over all in his great kingdom...except for one little thing—he could not leave his private chambers without servant or guard or both tagging along behind him. Aragorn shook his head in defeat. You are but powerless where your own safety is concerned, O King of Gondor.
Realizing that the matter was a waste of precious thought, he turned his mind away from the presence of his guards and instead considered the elf riding with their company. Aragorn stole a quick glance toward Talathion, who sat proud upon the saddle-less back of his blue roan mare, far removed from the group of men. If he was to take partial blame for the tense silence of the company, then the elf was without a doubt the root cause of it. Legolas' warder was still very much in a foul mood despite the fact that his wish had been granted to some extent, for Aragorn made this journey in hopes to speak one last time with the young prince. Still, gloominess emanated from the elf and it pervaded the entire company.
Talathion's mood should not have surprised him nor caused him great concern, for never had he known Legolas' warder to be anything but dour. If ever a scribe was to assemble a book of great volume that contained within it the meanings of words, Aragorn was certain he would find a sketch of Talathion next to the entry of "dour." As well as severe and morose and discourteous and.... Ever was the elf gravely serious, with only one purpose in mind—protecting his prince. Aragorn was accustomed to the daunting presence of Talathion whenever Legolas visited the king and queen in the White City. It provided much fun for the royal couple. The warder was seldom very far from the one he had been charged to keep, and his constant proximity to the prince wore away at the young elf's patience. The king had been a recipient of many favors of a personal nature from his queen as he very often won the bets he made with her concerning when the son of Thranduil would finally lose his temper, and what means he would employ to hinder his warder's persistent vigilance.
Laughter began to rumble deep within Aragorn as he remembered the time when the elven prince had agreed to meet one of the more uninhibited maidens of the White City in a storage closet of the Citadel during a grand feast and ball. Legolas and Gimli had shown much cunning and craftiness in luring the warder into that same room and barring both elf and woman inside for the entire night. Needless to say, Talathion had not been pleased with the ruse, and the woman, once she realized a switch had been made, had been very disappointed with the companionship, or so Aragorn heard tell the next day from his two cheerful friends.
Aragorn attempted to conceal his laughter, but the elf still heard it and must have sensed the merriment came at his expense. Talathion swung his head around and gifted the king with a sharp look. Aragorn sobered immediately. It's going to be a long journey, Aragorn, he acknowledged to himself, as he tried to coax his horse and consequently those around him into a faster pace.
The warder's wordless reprimand succeeded in quelling his brief amusement, but it did little to stop him from further deliberating the elf and the reason for his behavior. Aragorn was aware somewhat of the inner turmoil Talathion clearly still fought. Legolas had not shared all with him, as it was not his place to do so, but he had told him enough. Aragorn knew of the personal tragedy the warder had experienced in the recent past and understood the pain of heartbreak was still fresh within his soul, for seven years was but a single brief measure in the Great Song of Ilúvatar for one who had lived so many millennia as Talathion. Aragorn could not fathom the immense sorrow and heartache of losing a wife and a son that one had loved for hundreds upon hundreds of years. Eldarion was not yet a year old and already Aragorn had developed such a close bond with the child that if anything ever happened to him he believed he would go mad, seeking vengeance against whoever had allowed harm to come to his son. Either that or he would be so stricken with grief that he would collapse within himself, so much so that not even Arwen could reach him and pull him out from the depths of despair. It scared him to think about how terribly he would react and the emotions that would plague him, to even consider that he could lose his son because of illness or accident, or worse, through the deeds of men plotting to usurp the throne of Gondor. It scared him.
Aragorn shivered as he considered the frightening possibility of the last scenario, and shook his head to rid himself of the disturbing thought. That was very elvish of you, he observed silently and scowled. It was not the first time that day that he found himself having to perform the somewhat cleansing behavior. The altercation earlier between Talathion and he had brought to the forefront of his mind many upsetting thoughts, and with those thoughts came regrets. Talathion needed not remind him that he was essentially the cause for the fading light of not one, but two of the Eldar. Not a morning went by when he would look upon the beauty of his wife lying peacefully beside him in their bed and feel remorse for the choice his love had driven her to make. He had hoped that as the years passed by, those feelings would pass as well. But such was not the case—with each rising of the sun, the knowledge of her eventual death weighed heavier upon his heart and mind.
Stop this brooding, Aragorn! Arwen made her choice freely, as did Legolas. You are no more responsible for the direction their lives have taken than you are for the washing of floors in the Citadel.
The king rubbed his temple, willing his mind to return to pondering Talathion, specifically the odd request he had made earlier that day. Aragorn had agreed to make the trip to Edhilbar because he truly did desire to bid farewell to Legolas before the young elf departed Middle-earth. Talathion, however, desired something more from him. What spawned that desire confounded Aragorn. The warder had made no attempt to conceal his almost manic desire that Legolas remain in Middle-earth when he had confronted Aragorn that morning, and this behavior made no sense to him. True, elves experienced emotions far more intensely than most mortals, but they maintained firm control over the display of such emotions. It was most unlike an elf to let panic or pain be known to another, especially one outside their race. And it was no secret that Talathion harbored ill feelings toward those mortals the prince considered friends, particularly toward the king. But by staying in Middle-earth, Legolas' friendship with both Aragorn and Gimli would continue and only grow stronger and deeper as the years passed. Surely this was not what the warder desired.
"We should start to set up camp, Your Majesty, while there is still some light," the captain of his guard said, breaking the silence and interrupting Aragorn's ponderings.
Aragorn breathed an audible sigh, brought his horse to a gradual stop, and visually assessed the wishes and needs of those gathered around him. The bothered look on the elf's face and the stamping of his horse's hooves upon the road told him that Talathion was against a halt for the night and was anxious to continue their journey. Aragorn felt much as Talathion did, for he had spent a long winter cooped up within the stone walls of the White City and this was the former Ranger's first real excursion of the spring. Of course, the purpose of the journey did not escape his consideration; Aragorn did not want to find he had missed Legolas because they had tarried along the road. Roheryn, his horse, was capable of continuing on through the night with little rest and so was Talathion's steed since both were elven bred. Nonetheless, the other horses were tiring and in need of rest, as were the guards they bore.
Aragorn nodded his approval of a halt. "That copse of trees will be our resting ground for the night," he said, ignoring Talathion's deliberate grunt and urging Roheryn forward.
The company reached the site of their camp shortly. Arien had yet to fully hide her face, but darkness would be upon them soon. Three of the guards were sent to scout the area to ensure all was aright and to collect kindling for a fire. The other three remained behind, securing the horses and unpacking rations and bedrolls. Aragorn performed a quick survey of the area and found Talathion standing at the far edge of the trees, gazing out at the gently rolling hills before him, one hand resting lightly on his horse's back. Ignoring his desire to sit down and enjoy the companionship of his pipe, Aragorn approached the elf. Questions concerning the warder's reasons for wanting Legolas to remain in Middle-earth still beset his mind. Now was as good a time as any to try to gain some answers to those questions.
"What do you see?" Aragorn asked, attempting to engage Talathion in small talk first. It was a tactic that had worked many times against both Elrond and Gandalf whenever he had wanted knowledge the two were not willing to impart. Aragorn drew in a silent breath and hoped Talathion would fall prey to the device just as they oftentimes had.
"Why do you care?" the elf asked testily.
Aragorn scratched a nonexistent itch on the back of his head. You have your work cut out for you against this one.
"The eyes of elves see many things a man's cannot. Doubtless you can glimpse the great forest in which Edhilbar lies." Aragorn paused to carefully consider how he would proceed to steer their conversation. "Legolas and I camped here one night a few years back," he said casually. "He told me the furthest thing he could see. I wonder who has the keener eyes—the prince or his warder?" he put forth playfully.
"What does it matter?" Talathion questioned in reply, his tone conveying he had little patience to participate in the game.
"Humor me," Aragorn answered as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"I see farther than the prince ever has and ever will."
Aragorn's mind dwelled briefly on the possible meanings of the elf's words. Then the man allowed a small chuckle to escape. "I'm sure Legolas would give a similar answer had I presented him with the question," he pointed out. "Prove it," he said, jerking his head up minutely. "Tell me what you see."
The elf snapped around to face the king. Grey eyes locked onto grey eyes. "You do not want to know what it is I see," Talathion warned, holding Aragorn's gaze for a long moment. Finally, the warder broke away and let out a long exasperated sigh. "For what purpose do you bother me with this guff, Elessar? What is it you truly wish to know?"
"I would have you tell me your reasons for wanting Legolas to remain in Middle-earth," Aragorn said straightforwardly. You should have known better, Aragorn. He is much like Legolas; direct is always best.
"My reasons are the same as your reasons."
Aragorn ran a hand through his thick hair, silently cursing the innate elven talent for elusive answers. "I fail to follow your logic, Talathion. I do not want Legolas to stay. Not if he must suffer the Call of the Sea. I want only what is best for him. I have no reasons for wanting him to stay," he pointed out, strength behind his words.
"If that is true, then you are a poorer king than I thought, Elessar," Talathion spat.
Anger seethed within the former Ranger, but he checked it, recognizing the elf had sought to elicit such a response from him. "What mean you?" Aragorn demanded, devoting much effort to keeping his tone even.
The elf turned away to face the wide expanse in front of them. "You asked what it is that I see when I look out upon this land, and so I will tell you," Talathion declared at last, his voice suddenly smooth. "I see a land that was devastated by brutal hands of Orcs and Men. I see a land that still bears these wounds deeply." The warder paused, allowing Aragorn just enough time to wonder when he had relinquished control of their conversation and where it was now going. "Would you know what it is that I hear as well?" Talathion questioned, glancing over at Aragorn, who gestured vaguely for him to continue. "I hear Arda crying out. She weeps in pain and curses the ones who caused it. Resentment festers within her, but she welcomes the Fair Folk and calls out to us in gratitude for the love and care we show her."
Aragorn nodded solemnly, sensing the truth in the elf's words. "The Fair Folk have done much to heal her wounds," he said. "For that, we are all grateful."
"Our work is far from complete, Elessar," Talathion scolded. "You fail to perceive how deeply her pain lies. Would you have us abandon this cause, cease this work?"
"No, of course not," Aragorn replied, taken somewhat aback by the question. What does the elf take me for?
The warder took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as he spoke his next words. "Should Legolas heed the Call of the Sea, do you know what will become of Edhilbar?"
Aragorn made to answer but was unable as the change of topic caught him slightly off guard.
"It will diminish, just as the realms of Imladris and Lothlorien have begun to do," the elf answered for him. "Alas, it is strange and very ill that such should be the case." Talathion paused briefly, and for an instant his eyes seemed to fix themselves on something far away. Then, just as quickly, he brought them back into sharp focus. "It was the youth of my people who followed the prince to Ithilien. They still find delight in this land, for much of this world is new to them and excites them. Eagerly but foolishly have they forgotten those dark days not too long gone when all Middle-earth was clouded in Shadow." Talathion's head shook with disdain. "They have never before experienced a time when one no longer need fear that Shadow. It is for that very reason that the dawning of this age brings much joy to them. But they did not experience the great days of my people, the days when Gondolin and Doriath were the elven strongholds, when it was the Eldar who held the fate of Middle-earth in their hands." Talathion's eyes met Aragorn's. Dark grey storm clouds had settled over his pools. "They removed themselves to Ithilien so they would be closer to the sea. Though they do not yet feel its pull, they know it will come. Many want it to come. I doubt not some would have left these shores already, even had they not heard its call. Know you why they stay?" Talathion's eyebrows drew together expectantly as he seemed to consider the worth of the king.
For a moment, Aragorn thought he had misheard the elf's question. "This world still delights them. You have just said as much yourself," he finally replied.
"Middle-earth is not what holds them here," the elf corrected harshly. "Aman offers far more beauty, and they would find much more delight in that enchanted land, untainted by mortal beings. They remain here not because they are bound to this land. Though they desire to see Ithilien's hurts healed, that is not the reason they stay, nor was it the reason they removed themselves here in the first place. Think you that they would subject themselves to live in a place where they must suffer so much contact with your race?" he scoffed. "Nay, they were content living in Eryn Lasgalen, for the darkness has been lifted over that great forest, and they would find more delight under the trees of their homes than they ever would here." Talathion shook his head slightly. "They came and they stay because of Legolas," he explained, his voice turning momentarily placid at the mention of his prince, but the warder's scorn promptly returned as he continued his harangue. "It was his desire to establish a settlement here, to restore Ithilien to its prior beauty. Without him, the land of this kingdom would be as despicable as its nobility." Aragorn grimaced inwardly at the contempt dripping from Talathion's words. "You owe him much, King of Gondor. Your kingdom will be made great by the work of the prince. But that will not come to pass should he leave. The others would abandon this cause without the prince's vision to guide and sustain them. Do you understand now why it is in your best interest that he stay?"
Aragorn did not answer for a time and Talathion thankfully did not push him to do so. Much of what the elf said had some base in the truth, Aragorn knew. While there were a few exceptions, Talathion being one of them, the elves Legolas had brought with him to Ithilien were quite young by elven standards. And as all young elves were, they were eager but capricious. He had known for some time that when Legolas finally did depart from the shores of Middle-earth, the elven settlement in Ithilien would eventually disband, some following the prince's path, others returning to Thranduil's kingdom in Eryn Lasgalen. While they would leave Ithilien in a far better condition than when they came, the land would not be fully restored to its splendor. It would take many years before that would ever be accomplished. Yes, what Talathion said made complete sense to the king.
Aragorn shook his head, clearing his thoughts. "Your explanation fails to fulfill my original request," he finally said, recalling his original purpose in subjecting himself to the discussion. "What reasons do you have for wanting Legolas to remain? You have made clear on several occasions your dislike for me. Why would you seek to accomplish something that would be to my benefit?"
"You speak untrue, Elessar. I do not dislike you." Mock hurt filled the elf's saccharine voice. "I abhor you," he amended, his tone turning bitter and coarse. "But even more so, I loathe that Men gain clout over the fate and well-being of Arda. Men are weak and foolish and selfish, but you have much strength and will, and that is a dangerous combination. I foresee Arda will suffer once again under your rule."
Aragorn fought hard once again to control the anger stirring within him. It is Talathion who speaks untrue, Aragorn. You know this! The elf is not being forthright. He is hiding something. Play his game a while longer. "Ah, now I understand," he said, feigning enlightenment. "Legolas must to stay so that the presence of the elves will at least ensure that we bring no harm to the land."
"Precisely," Talathion said curtly, a note of warning in his voice.
"It is quite noble of you to forestall your own crossing over of the sea," Aragorn said, cocking his head expectantly.
The elf's eyes burned with fury upon hearing his words.
It seems you have hit a sore spot, Aragorn. Perhaps this discussion has not been for nothing. "No doubt you desire reprieve from the ills you have experienced in this world," he said, adding another coal to the fire.
No reply came from the warder, but none was needed to tell Aragorn that he had hit his mark. Talathion stood tensely and glared at Aragorn, a severe yet haunting glare that seemed to chill the air around them. Having lived with elves for much of his life, Aragorn was quite adept at withstanding the weighty gaze of an elf, yet rarely had he experienced a glare so intense and piercing as the one with which Talathion gifted him now. Almost it seemed to rival that of Sauron.
"I will find no peace there," the elf spoke finally, his voice cold and emotionless.
"Talathion, I—"
"Silence," the warder hissed. "You would do well to keep your empty words to yourself, King of Gondor."
Talathion leapt onto his horse in one fluid yet rigid motion, and Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief as he was released from the glare. The elf turned his head toward Aragorn, fixing him once more with a heavy gaze. "I trust you to find your way to Edhilbar. Do not disappoint me in this, Elessar," he advised harshly as he spurred his horse into a gallop.
Aragorn watched regretfully until elf and horse disappeared over the rolling hills, Arien withdrawing her last rays of light from the western horizon.
Legolas pulled back on the cord strung tautly between the two ends of the curved wood, seeking to reacquaint himself with the quirks of the bow. Its weight was different, heavier; and the wood felt strangely smooth under the grasp of his left hand. He released the string but kept his hand near to it, feeling the vaguely familiar vibrations of the flaxen cord. The elf cocked his head as he listened intently to the slightly higher pitched twang of the bow, calling to mind the distant memory of when he last heard that note in the dark mines of Moria, just before it fell to the cold stone floor as he gazed in disbelief and fear at the Balrog.
Legolas shook his head, disregarding the memory, and fitted one of the arrows he had fletched that morning to the string. His keen eyes searched the trees around him for a suitable target. Finally, he spotted one that would do—a knot halfway up the trunk of an old oak tree that stood a great distance away. Legolas drew back on the string of the bow and narrowed his eyes in concentration, judging both the angle and the distance of his shot. A slight breeze from the south feathered across his face and he took it into consideration as well, adjusting his stance appropriately. The elf set the arrow to flight and watched its graceful journey through the air, grimacing as it hit the tree.
"You were off to the right, Legolas."
Legolas started at the sound of the voice, for he had not heard the speaker's approach. He scowled as he turned to address his friend, hiding the bow nonchalantly behind his back. "I can see that for myself, Celebhil. I need not you to point this out."
"Nay, that is true," Celebhil said, mirth stealing into his bright green eyes. "But it appears you are in need of an archery lesson. Might I be of assistance in this, my prince?"
"Nay, Celebhil," Legolas answered curtly. He glanced around the practice field in search of something that might provide a brief distraction.
"What is it, Legolas? Is something amiss?" Celebhil inquired, following the prince's glimpses.
Nothing suitable presented itself. "It is nothing," he sighed, disappointed.
"Ai, I see! You seek out a closer target, one you will be able to hit. Perhaps that will do," Celebhil said, pointing toward a tall poplar that stood barely twenty feet away.
"I see a fine target standing in front of me," Legolas warned.
Celebhil laughed. "My, but you are a prickly one this day. Your aim was not that terrible," he soothed mockingly. "You need not be overly upset with yourself."
"It was not my aim," Legolas corrected tersely. Valar, make him stop!
"If it is not the archer, then the fault must lie with the instrument. But surely the great bow of the Galadhrim is not to blame?" The elf's words brimmed with skepticism.
"Nay, it is not," Legolas assured.
Celebhil looked at him doubtfully. "One of your answers would prove to be untrue. You would perjure yourself to me, my prince?" he inquired, bringing his hand to his heart, a look of deep hurt dancing upon his face.
"Nay, I do not," he answered simply. Legolas bristled inside. He could not take much more of Celebhil's questioning and he knew the elf would soon discover what it was that he wished to hide. The prince's mind began to whirl as he sought a possible explanation.
"I choose to believe that the fault lies not in my comrade and my prince whom I have respected highly and followed indubitably for nearly two thousand years," Celebhil said with excessive reverence. "Thus, it must lie with the bow. Allow me to see it. Perhaps we together might find its fault and resolve the problem."
Legolas' hand clutched the bow tighter behind his back. "That will not be necessary, Celebhil," he said, steeling his voice and his gaze.
"I mind not, Legolas," he said, taking a step toward the prince.
Legolas took a step back in response.
"What do you hide?" Celebhil asked, tilting his head slightly as he took another step closer.
"Leave off, Celebhil," Legolas advised.
"Legolas?" the elf questioned playfully.
"Celebhil," Legolas replied coldly.
Celebhil bolted forward, but Legolas had been expecting the move from his friend. He turned at the same instant and started to run, his strides long and quick and his arms pumping wildly, his left hand still keeping its firm grip on the bow.
"Where will you go, Legolas?" Celebhil called out. "You cannot escape!"
Legolas continued to run, ignoring the inevitable truth of his friend's words. His eyes scoured the trees in front of him and he glimpsed a branch hanging low. He turned abruptly, willing his legs to carry him farther and faster. Legolas chanced a quick look over his shoulder and saw that his sudden change of course had failed in furthering the distance between he and Celebhil. Legolas turned his head forward again, concentrating on the path in front of him. The branch was rapidly approaching. Celebhil may be faster on the ground, but in the trees he is a maladroit troll, Legolas assured himself as he launched his body off the ground and reached out his free hand to grasp the branch. He pulled himself upward as fast as he could manage, but was slowed somewhat by the lack of use of his other hand. One leg swung up onto the branch, and Legolas was promptly poised to spring further up into the tree's boughs. He started to draw his other leg up, but before he could accomplish the move, Celebhil's strong hands clamped firmly around his ankle and calf, pulling him downward. Legolas cried out as he lost his balance on the branch. He hit the ground hard, landing on his back, and gasped for air. Quick as flash, Celebhil situated himself atop the prince, straddling his legs so securely that he could not budge. His hands seized Legolas' wrists and held them tightly against the ground. Thranduil's son made a valiant effort to free himself, but his attempts were in vain as his friend had the leverage. There was no way the prince was getting out of this fix.
Legolas' eyes met Celebhil's in a hard stare.
Celebhil bent close, bringing his face mere inches from Legolas', and smiled wryly. "Do you yield?"
Legolas turned his head to the side, breaking the stare. Celebhil's hot, rapid breaths beat against his burning cheek.
"Do you yield?" Celebhil asked again, more forcibly.
"Yes," Legolas conceded angrily, snapping his head around in frustration and fixing Celebhil with a feral look. "Now unhand me, you git!"
Celebhil released Legolas' wrists and leaned back on his haunches, still preventing any movement of Legolas' legs. The wry smile remained upon his face but was twisting into one of smug mischievousness.
Legolas sat up as best he could, leaning back on his hands for support. "Get off," he growled.
"You need only ask, my prince," Celebhil said genially, as he repositioned himself into a crouched position over Legolas.
Legolas tried to take the opportunity to gift his friend with repayment for his humiliation, but Celebhil was too quick. The prince scowled at the elf who now sat safely cross-legged across from him, hands resting upon the bow he held in his lap.
"So this is what you sought to hide." Celebhil picked up the bow, ran his fingers across the wood, and then plucked the string. "What is this?"
The prince rubbed his wrists, studying the faint red marks Celebhil's strong grip had created upon them. "It is a bow," Legolas answered plainly, looking up.
Celebhil scowled. "I know that," he said, his words possessing a biting tone.
Legolas' eyes grew wide with virtue. "I simply answered the question you asked," he pointed out. "There is no need to charge me with ineptitude when it is you who falls short."
Celebhil's brows drew together in stern concentration. "Why do you use this bow and not the one given to you by Galadriel?"
Legolas peered up at the bright blue sky peeking through the lush green leaves of the trees overhead. It was not the first time the youngest son of Thranduil found himself in a situation in which one wanted an explanation he did not want to give. Over his two thousand years, he had had to dodge many a question poised to him by not only his sire, but also his older brothers and his warder, even Aragorn a time or two. He was quite masterful, even for an elf, at the delicate art of forming responses that essentially answered the question but strayed far from what the inquiring mind actually wanted to know. Unfortunately, Celebhil was rather adept at the game himself, learning well from the prince during their many exploits. It would be prove nigh unto impossible for either elf to accomplish his objective, and Legolas had no doubt that they would be at it throughout the entire night and well into the next day before one of them finally forfeited. Legolas decided it best to take a different tactic.
"Were all accounted for on your planting team?" he asked, posturing himself regally.
"You cheat, Legolas. You cannot change the subject. You must answer my question," Celebhil reprimanded, his tone reminding Legolas greatly of an elfling who had not yet seen his third decade.
"I must answer no one's question. I am your prince, Celebhil. It is you who must answer mine," he admonished, doing his best impersonation of Thranduil.
"You released me from all obligations to you centuries ago. I no longer am bound to answer to you," Celebhil said self-righteously.
Legolas felt a surge of regal mischievousness within him. "Then I, Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen and Lord of Edhilbar, hereby decree that all privileges and liberties priorly granted to Celebhil Astaldion, a mere esquire in my court, are to be surrendered from this day forth."
Celebhil's face fell in disbelieving shock. "You can't do that," he protested, forgetting to close his mouth.
"I just did," Legolas observed smugly. "My judgment stands, as does my question. Answer me," he ordered, maintaining his princely decorum.
Celebhil glowered, grumbling at the ground distasteful words that Legolas was able to hear but not quite able to decipher.
"You keep your prince waiting, Celebhil," Legolas sang. He was gifted with a deadly look from his friend, causing him to laugh heartily. "If it will appease you, I may consider answering what questions you have, but only once you have answered all of mine."
"So be it, my lord," Celebhil grudgingly complied, setting the bow aside. "All elves assigned to the north team were more or less accounted for."
"More or less?" Legolas asked, amused and seeking further qualification.
"Yes, more or less."
"Celebhil…," Legolas cautioned.
"Two or three of us may have snuck off for a time," the elf admitted, his words haste. "Albeit a very short time," he continued, a note of complaint entering his voice.
Legolas fixed his friend with a curious look, but Celebhil refused to meet his gaze, instead finding the grass in front of him to be in dire need of his scrutiny. Legolas knew there was far more here than Celebhil wanted to detail to him and probably more than Legolas wanted to know, or even should know. The prince decided to have mercy on his friend and abandoned the topic for the time being. The truth will out eventually. "Then none left the immediate area of the planting fields?" he inquired instead.
Celebhil's brow knitted as he looked up at Legolas. It was obvious the elf had been expecting his friend to pursue knowledge of who the two or three were and exactly what it was that they had been up to. "Nay," he answered.
Puzzlement knitted itself upon Legolas' brow in turn. The prince had hoped that Celebhil's answers might provide him with a possible explanation of who it was that had provided the woman with the rabbit. But his line of questioning appeared to be going nowhere fast. Legolas knew it was doubtful that an elf would have left the site of the plantings and ventured that far away and into his glade. And the timing to accomplish such was tight, for the glade was nearly half day's journey away from both Edhilbar and the nearest fields. In any case, if it had been an elf who had chanced upon the woman, Legolas was certain her rediscovery would have been promptly reported back to him.
Legolas rubbed the back of his neck as feelings of disconcertion stirred within him for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. All this is brought upon by that woman, he realized irritably, recalling his already bad day which was progressively getting worse.
Upon his return to Edhilbar late the night before, he had slipped thankfully unseen back to his dwelling. Only an old grey owl had taken notice of him, letting out a delighted hoot at the sight of the naked elf creeping through the wood. But things had gone downhill from there. He had not been able to find rest during the night, for he was too busy chastising himself for the choice he had made that afternoon in the glade. To put himself in that predicament in the first place was poor planning and clear evidence that the elf severely lacked good judgment. But the result of his choice was what actually irked Legolas. In deciding to forego the rather exposed encounter with the women and to instead steal away into the woods, the elf had left his clothing behind. If it had been as insignificant as that, he would not have minded in the least. However, as the cruel fates would have it, clothing was not the only item abandoned. His beloved bow and quiver, cherished gifts from Galadriel, had rested upon the west bank of the stream as well. Legolas was sick with regret and self-loathing for allowing that to occur. Why I did not think to place my belongings on the east bank near to the trees I will never know!
Beyond that, the elf's horse was missing. He had desired greatly to take Arod out for a relaxing jaunt that morning, but when he entered the stables, the stall was empty and no horse could be found. Legolas' immediate explanation for such was that one of the planting teams had enlisted Arod's aid in transporting supplies. But Arod is too proud for that, he reminded himself. He has deemed it bad enough that he should be forced to haul Gimli around. Besides which, one of the elves would have thought to ask the prince himself if his horse could be borrowed for the task. He had inquired of some who remained in Edhilbar about Arod's whereabouts, but each had thought that the prince was responsible for the absence of the horse. Legolas tried numerous times to convince himself that either Arod had managed to somehow open the gate himself or someone had done so for him, though what reason they would have for doing so perplexed him even more. The fact that Arod had not responded to his whistles did not cause him to be too overly concerned however. He is a fickle as a foal, and is probably out having his own amorous encounter, Legolas reasoned, glancing at Celebhil.
"Legolas?"
Legolas realized he had not spoken for quite a few minutes and was surprised Celebhil had not interrupted his ponderings sooner. "It is nothing," Legolas said, then smiled half-heartedly.
Celebhil nodded weakly. The elf's shoulders slouched ever so slightly, and the lighthearted play and amusement that the two friends had so easily shared and eagerly enjoyed just moments before seemed to drift away in the subtle breeze. Legolas winced inwardly as regret pricked his heart.
"Know you where Arod is?" Legolas asked, feeling a sudden and overwhelming need to share some of his concerns with his friend.
"Nay," Celebhil answered. "He is missing?"
"He was not in the stables when I went there this morning, and he did not come back when I called for him," Legolas explained.
"Strange," Celebhil said, his voice trailing off.
"Indeed," Legolas replied, and a veil of silence dropped over the two friends again. Legolas watched intently as Celebhil's fingers played with the grass in front of him.
"Talathion was acting rather peculiar yesterday," Celebhil finally said, breaking the silence but keeping his eyes on the ground.
"That is nothing new," Legolas reminded him. "How so this time?" he prodded.
"I informed him of your decision to leave and something seemed to come over him, to possess him. He does not want you to go, Legolas." Celebhil's head shook forlornly. "Neither do I, but I know it is best. I am glad we had this time together though," he said sadly, bringing his gaze up. "I did not expect to find you here, but I am glad I did. When will you leave?"
Legolas' brow furrowed. "Of what do you speak, Celebhil? I have made no decision to leave."
"You said so yesterday, just after the planting ceremony," Celebhil replied.
"Nay, I did not."
"Yes, you did," Celebhil contended. "You said that you had other matters to attend to, that you needed provisions, that you had to depart, and that we would see each other again, soon," Celebhil remembered carefully, counting the different statements on his fingers.
Legolas laughed for a long moment at his friend's unfortunate blunder. Celebhil only looked at him expectantly, his eyes pleading for explanation.
"Does this not constitute seeing each other again, soon?" Legolas asked between his mirthful expulsions.
"You have been associating with mortals far too much, Legolas," Celebhil scolded, failing to join in the merriment that came about at his expense. "Again and soon have very different connotations for an elf," he clarified brusquely, crossing his arms resolutely.
Legolas struggled in bringing his laughter to a halt. "My sincerest apologies, friend. I will attempt to be more mindful of this in the future," he said, sniggers bursting forth periodically.
Celebhil's stern gaze did not ease up.
"How may I make it up to you?" Legolas asked, seeking to bring cheer back to his friend.
Celebhil raised an eyebrow and Legolas watched as muted green pools glanced about the trees. It did not take long for the elf's expression to brighten, revealing his success in finding something to be of his liking. Legolas tracked his friend's glimpses and his gaze fell beside Celebhil. His stomach sank as Celebhil picked up the bow, a gleam creeping into the elf's eyes.
"Explain this," Celebhil said, his tone telling Legolas he would not be dissuaded.
"It is a long story," Legolas sighed.
"Long for an elf, or long for a mortal?"
Legolas stifled the urge to raise an eyebrow. "Long for both."
"We have all eternity," Celebhil pointed out, placing one elbow upon a knee and resting his chin in his hand, settling in to listen.
"Yes. Yes, we do," Legolas nodded his agreement. "But before I tell you, you must guarantee me one thing...."
"And that would be, my prince...?"
"Promise you will tell none of this to Talathion," Legolas said, grimacing at the faint note of dread that errantly entered his voice.
Celebhil eye's sparkled with glee. "Only if you promise to reinstate my privileges and liberties first."
A/N:
Tilion – the Maia who steers the Moon
Arien – the Maia who guides the Sun
Arda – Middle-earth
Aman – the land in the West, where Valinor is
Eryn Lasgalen – the new name of Mirkwood
Thranduilion – son of Thranduil
Astaldion – son of Astald
Not sure this is worth mentioning, but in my Middle-earth universe, Legolas is not quite two thousand years old. I like the idea that he never knew Greenwood the Great. Shadow fell on Greenwood is 1050 (Third Age); it is now the year 3026. I didn't pin down a specific year for his birth—that would be just plain obsessive. [Legoals: Like she's not obsessed already?]
Also, if you're a stickler for details and are lucky enough to possess a mind that remembers everything, you might find some minor inconsistencies from previous chapters (the number of days that have passed , what bank of the river Legolas left his clothes on, etc., etc.). I have revised these things either to better suit my needs or to fit the picture I have in my mind. I replaced the chapters when I posted this, so if you are a new reader (welcome!), the changes may not have taken affect yet. They really are minor and trivial and were only made because this author is an annoying perfectionist, so they shouldn't affect the story.
Is it just me, or does anyone else out there kind of feel that Legolas and Celebhil should be more than "just friends" or at least have had some sort of history along that line? I know some of you aren't into that kind of thing—I wasn't at first either and I do prefer our favorite elf with the opposite sex whenever he is paired—so I assure you that nothing of the sort will happen between them in this story. But I could be compelled to write a backstory that explores their relationship.... (But only when this is finished.)
Al & Legolas – Thanks for the excellent job beta'ing! Sorry though-- I am the author; hence, I am the one in control of who gets inserted as what in this story, and so I am the fish! Muahahaha. Thanks for letting me know your wish though. Maybe you should get Legolas to talk to Gandalf when he goes back; the wizard might be able to turn you into a fish. Aw, the way Legolas sleeps sounds so adorable. He makes a snuffling sound?! Is it like how Big Bird snuffles? You know who Big Bird is—right, Legolas? [No, Legoals—I didn't mean that big bird! Now that's just plain rude. Ai, Valar.]
Mija – And very nice of you to review. Thanks! So I see that you, too, want to be a fish. Well, I might possibly let you be a fish in that stream.... But just so you know—I am THE fish.
Stimpy, formerly Joy Took – Welcome, welcome! I'm glad you're here. And thank you for reviewing. You're impressed? And not just impressed, but hugely impressed? That makes me feel really good! Thanks! I hope you continue to be entertained.
jenolas – Poor Talathion (copyright jenolas) indeed! And Poor Aragorn (copyright PuterPatty) too. Actually, I think the king does a pretty good job holding his own against the elf, but I never get to use my phrase, so "Poor Aragorn" (copyright PP) away. [No, no, don't pour him away, Legoals. Ai, Valar.] The mysterious woman does have perfect timing, doesn't she? And no, you need not comment on the nekkid bathing—I know exactly what you're thinking. Thanks for the review.
TreeHugger – Wow! Your review was so long, I think I'd end up writing a whole chapter just responding to the highlights alone. Keep it up though—I love it! And you love Talathion?! I think you made the warder blush! Seriously though, credit must be given to you and all the other wonderful reviewers for providing the inspiration to make Talathion into something much more than he was originally supposed to be. I'm quite proud of him so thank you for being part of the catalyst in his development.
YellowSun – I had a dream last night that you actually did get to leave a signed review. Very weird, and it was in color and I hardly ever remember my dreams in color. Strange.... No matter, signed or unsigned—I'll take them all! So thanks. Yes, seven circles, I'm sure. And no, that wasn't the self-insert. But I suppose it could refer to me. Well, the pointed ears part anyway; golden hair is simply an added bonus. Of course, Elrohir and Elladan are just as enticing and they have dark hair (not that you would know that, or even care.) And I think the better question to ask would be how would the wet, nekkid elf react to me reacting to the wet, nekkid elf.
Ithilien – I'm glad to hear there's no Mary Sue here yet. Thanks for keeping a lookout for her. There really hasn't been much opportunity for her yet, but the Legolas/OC part is drawing near (after one or two chapters, I think--Talathion's been demanding a lot of attention). Anyway, I hope that will continue to be the case. Keep thinking along those metaphorical lines when it does come. LOL—Talathion does need to take a chill pill; I'll have to pick some up for him at Walgreens. I don't think Arwen's Naproxen Sodium will work for the problems he's got. ;)
Melian – Wow, three reviews. And another long one! And some many intriguing insights about Talathion! Girl, you have got to stop making those great comments about him, else we're never going to get to the romance part! And you wouldn't want that to happen, would you? No, no, I kid. Keep those wonderful remarks coming—the characters are taking this fic in an entirely different direction than I ever envisioned and I'm having lots of fun just tagging along wherever they go. Ah yes, the fish—I'll enroll you in the school too.
Bride of Legolas – Not sure when you'll make it here—but I hope you do—thanks for the review on chapter two. Er, one. But that just rhymed so nicely, I had to go with it. Hot DAMN?! Thanks!
Thanks to all the silent readers and especially those two or three out there of who are checking almost weekly(?)/daily(?) to see if I've updated. It really makes me want to write faster! Unfortunately this is a busy time of year. I have no idea when the next update will come, but I'll try my best not to make you wait a month for it again.
