Chapter Three-The White Council
He waited for days, wandering aimlessly through the city. Sometimes he
talked with Andlothiel or some of the lesser wizards, who were not involved
in the deliberations. Mostly though he sat alone in a hall with a high
vaulted ceiling and many statues bathed in coloured light from high
windows. He restlessly paced the hall, cursorily examining the statues of
Elven lords and kings of men from days gone by.
Sometimes he sat on a stone bench and thought of Mirkwood, his forest home. In his mind he was running again through the cool shadows and dappled shade, walking through the green halls of his father, and greeting Nefwathiel. Always though he had to come back to the interminable wait, the Istari had been closeted for over a week behind the closed doors of the council chamber and still no word had come from within. He had lived for nearly three thousand years, but still the waiting wearied him.
Finally however a messenger ran through the huge wooden doors of the hall shouting: "Sir, sir! The council has come to a decision, Lord Saruman and Gandalf wish to speak with you at once!" the man stopped, clearly exhausted from running.
Legolas jumped to his feet, and in three strides had crossed the room and was out of the door at a run. The messenger turned to follow him but Legolas was already so far down the corridor that it would be useless to go after him.
He skidded into the ante-room of the audience chamber and almost collided with Andlothiel. He stepped back, searching her face for a trace of emotion that would betray knowledge of the council's decision. There was none, she looked nervous and hopeful but obviously had not been told of the outcome.
She took his hands in hers and looked him in the eye, seriously. "I hope the decision they made will save Mirkwood." she said and then smoothed her long green velvet gown, and moved a stand of his long fair hair into place. They both turned to face the double doors. The white doors began to open, again seemingly of their own volition. They stepped forward into a light airy room with high windows. The two Maiar were sitting in tall chairs facing the door, Saruman, all in white with long white hair and beard, and Mithrandir wearing a robe the colour of ashes, his hair and beard long and grey.
Legolas suddenly remembered that he had met Gandalf once before, many years ago when he came to Mirkwood, he hoped against hope that he would not recognise him for who he was.
"My Lords, this is Master Veborion, a messenger from King Thranduil of Mirkwood." said Andlothiel, tangibly afraid.
Saruman spoke, "You may leave us now Andlothiel, return to your gate duties." The girl bowed and left the room quickly, not daring to look back.
The wizards turned to Legolas, almost in unison. Mithrandir got to his feet and with a glint in his eye that showed his recognition he said: "Have we not met before Master Veborion? I was in Mirkwood, long ago, and by my count, some friends of mine should be entering there at this very moment. I have some recollection of your face." It was an act, Legolas decided, he knew precisely who Legolas was and for whatever reason, he chose to keep his secret from Saruman. Legolas tried to signal his gratitude through his voice and said: "My lord, I believe you met me at the court of King Thranduil when I was an attendant for the prince." The lie slipped easily from his tongue and Saruman seemed satisfied that the story was genuine.
Gandalf sat back down and surreptitiously winked at the elf standing before him. He did not know why the prince was using a false name but it would be for a good reason, so he would keep the secret and remember to speak with him later.
Saruman cleared his throat and began, "Master Veborion, I believe you have been here for some time, awaiting our decision. The council has decided." here he paused and looked to Mithrandir who nodded shortly, ".to storm the Tower of Dol Guldur and return the Necromancer to the East, where he can do no further harm." In his heart, Legolas rejoiced, but outside, he remained calm. He thanked the Istari, on behalf of Thranduil, and then turned to go. He had just reached the doors when Saruman called him back. His heart sank, Saruman had recognised him, or his bearing had not befitted a messenger. The wizard held out a package.
"Give this to Prince Legolas when you return to Mirkwood." he commanded. "I cannot speak with him but this contains a gift from the White Council that will help him in his duties in years to come." Legolas took the package wordlessly, bowed to both wizards and left the room. Andlothiel was waiting just outside, she ran to his side and looked at his face, for some sign, some trace of emotion that would show her what had transpired, but all she saw was his handsome face, totally devoid of all emotion.
"What happened? Tell me!" she cried impetuously. He placed a finger to his lips, gestured behind him, to the doors that were only now beginning to close. They walked together from the ante-room and out on to the ramparts. When he judged that they were far enough away from anyone who might overhear them, he allowed his face to split into a warm smile, and then he chuckled, a soft peal of delighted laughter.
"They are going to help us!" he cried, hardly able to contain his joy. He pulled her to him and she buried her face in the breast of his tunic. The embrace was that of friends, of comrades after a long battle, of brother and sister. It was all and none of these.
They remained so for what seemed an age, until the sun on their backs shadowed and became starlight. An owl hooted and suddenly they heard the creak of the huge main gates. Legolas and Andlothiel looked over the wall, to see twelve shining horses leave the great city. Twelve riders, their multicoloured robes shaded silver by the moon, with staffs in hand urged their beasts onward. North, towards Mirkwood they rode, and there was a purpose in their ride such as neither of them had ever seen before. At the head of the column rode two abreast, one in shimmering white, and one who seemed to blend in with the dark ground. The grey rider held a glimmering blade aloft. Glamdring, the foe hammer!
Such was the height of the wall, that they saw the column reach the dark of Mirkwood. At some unspoken command, each wizard raised his staff in unison and a great burst of light swallowed the procession of Istari. The light was blue, and green, and white. It was gold and silver, it was all colours and yet a colour all of its own. It blazed towards the blackness of Northern Mirkwood and an enormous explosion shook the world. A red and black flame shot from where Legolas assumed Dol Guldur to be and fled Eastwards, growing fainter and fainter, until at last, it vanished.
Sometimes he sat on a stone bench and thought of Mirkwood, his forest home. In his mind he was running again through the cool shadows and dappled shade, walking through the green halls of his father, and greeting Nefwathiel. Always though he had to come back to the interminable wait, the Istari had been closeted for over a week behind the closed doors of the council chamber and still no word had come from within. He had lived for nearly three thousand years, but still the waiting wearied him.
Finally however a messenger ran through the huge wooden doors of the hall shouting: "Sir, sir! The council has come to a decision, Lord Saruman and Gandalf wish to speak with you at once!" the man stopped, clearly exhausted from running.
Legolas jumped to his feet, and in three strides had crossed the room and was out of the door at a run. The messenger turned to follow him but Legolas was already so far down the corridor that it would be useless to go after him.
He skidded into the ante-room of the audience chamber and almost collided with Andlothiel. He stepped back, searching her face for a trace of emotion that would betray knowledge of the council's decision. There was none, she looked nervous and hopeful but obviously had not been told of the outcome.
She took his hands in hers and looked him in the eye, seriously. "I hope the decision they made will save Mirkwood." she said and then smoothed her long green velvet gown, and moved a stand of his long fair hair into place. They both turned to face the double doors. The white doors began to open, again seemingly of their own volition. They stepped forward into a light airy room with high windows. The two Maiar were sitting in tall chairs facing the door, Saruman, all in white with long white hair and beard, and Mithrandir wearing a robe the colour of ashes, his hair and beard long and grey.
Legolas suddenly remembered that he had met Gandalf once before, many years ago when he came to Mirkwood, he hoped against hope that he would not recognise him for who he was.
"My Lords, this is Master Veborion, a messenger from King Thranduil of Mirkwood." said Andlothiel, tangibly afraid.
Saruman spoke, "You may leave us now Andlothiel, return to your gate duties." The girl bowed and left the room quickly, not daring to look back.
The wizards turned to Legolas, almost in unison. Mithrandir got to his feet and with a glint in his eye that showed his recognition he said: "Have we not met before Master Veborion? I was in Mirkwood, long ago, and by my count, some friends of mine should be entering there at this very moment. I have some recollection of your face." It was an act, Legolas decided, he knew precisely who Legolas was and for whatever reason, he chose to keep his secret from Saruman. Legolas tried to signal his gratitude through his voice and said: "My lord, I believe you met me at the court of King Thranduil when I was an attendant for the prince." The lie slipped easily from his tongue and Saruman seemed satisfied that the story was genuine.
Gandalf sat back down and surreptitiously winked at the elf standing before him. He did not know why the prince was using a false name but it would be for a good reason, so he would keep the secret and remember to speak with him later.
Saruman cleared his throat and began, "Master Veborion, I believe you have been here for some time, awaiting our decision. The council has decided." here he paused and looked to Mithrandir who nodded shortly, ".to storm the Tower of Dol Guldur and return the Necromancer to the East, where he can do no further harm." In his heart, Legolas rejoiced, but outside, he remained calm. He thanked the Istari, on behalf of Thranduil, and then turned to go. He had just reached the doors when Saruman called him back. His heart sank, Saruman had recognised him, or his bearing had not befitted a messenger. The wizard held out a package.
"Give this to Prince Legolas when you return to Mirkwood." he commanded. "I cannot speak with him but this contains a gift from the White Council that will help him in his duties in years to come." Legolas took the package wordlessly, bowed to both wizards and left the room. Andlothiel was waiting just outside, she ran to his side and looked at his face, for some sign, some trace of emotion that would show her what had transpired, but all she saw was his handsome face, totally devoid of all emotion.
"What happened? Tell me!" she cried impetuously. He placed a finger to his lips, gestured behind him, to the doors that were only now beginning to close. They walked together from the ante-room and out on to the ramparts. When he judged that they were far enough away from anyone who might overhear them, he allowed his face to split into a warm smile, and then he chuckled, a soft peal of delighted laughter.
"They are going to help us!" he cried, hardly able to contain his joy. He pulled her to him and she buried her face in the breast of his tunic. The embrace was that of friends, of comrades after a long battle, of brother and sister. It was all and none of these.
They remained so for what seemed an age, until the sun on their backs shadowed and became starlight. An owl hooted and suddenly they heard the creak of the huge main gates. Legolas and Andlothiel looked over the wall, to see twelve shining horses leave the great city. Twelve riders, their multicoloured robes shaded silver by the moon, with staffs in hand urged their beasts onward. North, towards Mirkwood they rode, and there was a purpose in their ride such as neither of them had ever seen before. At the head of the column rode two abreast, one in shimmering white, and one who seemed to blend in with the dark ground. The grey rider held a glimmering blade aloft. Glamdring, the foe hammer!
Such was the height of the wall, that they saw the column reach the dark of Mirkwood. At some unspoken command, each wizard raised his staff in unison and a great burst of light swallowed the procession of Istari. The light was blue, and green, and white. It was gold and silver, it was all colours and yet a colour all of its own. It blazed towards the blackness of Northern Mirkwood and an enormous explosion shook the world. A red and black flame shot from where Legolas assumed Dol Guldur to be and fled Eastwards, growing fainter and fainter, until at last, it vanished.