Footsteps to Rivendell
A Sequel to Golden Leaves of Lórien
By Ellwyn Phoenix
(jidai_rinoa@hotmail.com)
Chapter Two: Echoes From the Past
His hands ran through the mane of his chestnut stallion and he patted it on the nose gently. He was a mere two leagues away from the Elven paradise, Rivendell, and he could already make it out in the distance, peeking out from behind mountains and waterfalls. It was a beautiful place and he had only visited several times before with his father, when he was much younger. That was so long ago, and even with all the years that had passed the sight of the valley was breathtaking.
Legolas reached into the horse's pack and smiled as he felt the horse's teeth lightly scraping his palm as he held out the handful of straw. His two companions, friends of his father's, were still mounted and they were looking about them. One of them stopped to turn around and shout to him, "Legolas! It is near midday, and Rivendell is within sight. Why do you dally?"
He sighed and then mounted his horse again. The other two riders continued on down the hill towards the Anduin, snaking along the valley and glittering silver in the sunlight.
After an hour's riding Legolas found himself far behind his companions, who had already entered the city of Rivendell. He spurred his horse through the shallow area of the river and then quickly galloped through the trees to the entrance of the city.
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Legolas dismounted his horse after riding into the archway leading into the city's plaza and looked about him with the slightest smile playing on his face. The place was beautiful. He admired the statues, fountains, and countless towers before noticing the rider that had arrived just before him.
It was a man, he knew from just a glance, and he was fair and noble of face. Even his movements were regal. He was cloaked and booted and hanging at his side was a great horn tipped with silver. Legolas watched him lead his horse to the stables and then ascend the stairs to disappear behind a row of statues.
It was surely something of great importance, if men from Gondor were being summoned to the council as well, Legolas thought. Legolas looked about him once more and he could swear that he almost felt the sense of foreboding hanging in the air. Nevertheless, the city was beautiful and he could not draw himself away from admiring the ancient architecture.
He was letting the clear water from a nearby fountain run over his hands when he heard it. A faint voice carried along the breeze that barely reached his keen ears. His senses alerted and he suddenly felt a strange constriction in his chest…
…That voice was all too familiar. He felt his heart lurch in his chest but he just rolled his eyes in exasperation at himself. What, now I'm hearing things? Now I must really be losing my wits. You are really something, Greenleaf.
But the voice continued, rising and falling with the wind. It held no expression, he noticed. He straightened and listened to it intently. He was so lost in the sound and ring of it that he realized he was soaking the edges of his sleeves in the water. Hastily he removed his hands and wiped them dry on his tunic. But then, suddenly the voice stopped. Legolas nearly stopped breathing in an effort to hear where it had been coming from.
He felt more troubled now than he had in years. And all because of something he thought he heard on the wind? He reached down to splash water onto his face and said aloud, "Now, really. Hearing voices in your head. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Legolas. There is nothing--"
And then the sound of footsteps reached his ears. Footsteps, descending the stairs behind him into the city plaza. A maiden was giggling musically. Legolas slowly wiped his face off with his sleeve but did not turn around. Something grew that lingered in the back of his mind.
The laughing stopped. As did the footsteps. He knew he had heard two sets of footsteps.
"What's wrong, Lyann?" The girl who had done the laughing was now asking.
Legolas' heart froze and he shut his eyes. Still, he could not bring himself to move and face who he knew was standing at the foot of the stairs.
"Well?" The girl's voice sounded puzzled and slightly irked. "You really are strange, you know, Lyann. You look as though you could have seen a ghost!"
He kept his eyes staring straight ahead blankly with his back still turned toward them. Oh, Elbereth, what is wrong with you? There are hundreds of people with the same name—or are there? Really, now, of course! But still he could not resist the anticipation he felt for a response from the Elven girl's companion.
"…I think I have," were the only words Legolas could make out. The voice was undoubtedly the same as the one he had heard earlier, but now it was barely above a whisper, subdued.
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Legolas' breath stopped short. He felt the color drain from his face and his heartbeat quickened perceptibly. He kept as still as a statue. Just the thought of her, standing just meters away from him, when in his mind she was still hundreds of leagues away. He found it hard to believe she was there, looking at him at that very moment. The years that had passed seemed so many, but in the inner reaches of his mind Legolas remembered every single aching moment of every year and every thought he had of her. No matter how hard he tried to forget--
Hearing her voice again. If he turned, he would see her. What would she look like now? At least she had recognized him. But, he couldn't help but wonder, if it had been just a faint recognition—if she didn't know who he was, or if she had forgotten everything… felt no pain…
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The girl laughed again. "Anyhow, I must be getting back; I have things to do. I shall see you later tonight!" Finally Legolas heard her turn and go back up the stairs. But she was still standing there. Or whoever it was. It certainly wasn't her—well, it couldn't be her at all! He silently berated himself.
It isn't him, you fool, it's just someone else—my goodness, at the sight of any elf from Mirkwood you lose all control like this? It's been so long anyway, if it was him he wouldn't remember you—
Legolas set his jaw and slowly turned around. He was fully turned around before he raised his eyes from the ground…
Oh, Elbereth!
His heart cried out in recognition and unspeakable longing, but he forced his face to remain blank with an iron grip on his composure. Across the plaza there stood an Elf with dark hair, and just as dark eyes that were looking past the statues between them and were trained on him. He saw the look of shock on her face. That face…there she is, right here, in Rivendell. How long has it been? Of course, nearly two thousand years.
But the moment of shock passed as quickly as it had arrived and before he knew it she had turned around and disappeared up the steps. Legolas nearly cried out for her to stop but he couldn't bring himself to.
That look in her eyes when she saw him—that utter pain that mirrored his own if not accentuated it. Every detail was imprinted in his mind. She had blinked furiously at first seeing him when he raised his eyes to look at her. He saw the shock written on her face, but it was momentary, and then unexpectedly she turned and ran off. And yet he still had time to notice how her face grew pallid in mere seconds. Her eyes…those very eyes had been locked onto his. It had been so long, and just the sight of her again made his spine tingle curiously.
Why, Erlyannil?
Did she think he had forgotten her? No, that was too presumptuous to believe she had held him in her heart--or even her memory, for that matter--for this long. He nearly wanted to laugh at himself but the pain and astonishment was too great. She was probably already attached, if not married. Of course, she had come to Rivendell and met someone, then married and here she was, living here. He had just intruded on her life and raised something in her that she had buried away. You moron, Legolas. Fool. You don't matter to her anymore and you barely did when you were with her anyway—chasing after her inanely, and in all that chaos, of course she wouldn't want to remember you. With it only comes the memory of her parents and her dead friend, and…
With an effort Legolas tore his eyes away from the staircase where she had stood and turned back to the fountain, meaning to immerse his head in the cold water just to be revived. But the clear peal of a bell sounded in the air as the breeze rustled the treetops. He went back to his horse to get his belongings and then remembered the stable boy's directions to a small tower where he was to stay until the following day brought the beginning of the council.
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Disclaimer: All LOTR affiliated trademarks are property of Saul Zaentz and Co., and Tolkien enterprises. I suppose the rest belongs to me, but even then it isn't original no doubt… =)
A/N: Third installment coming next week. Now I have to get busy writing more so that the chapters will be ready to post with every weekend! Please review as always.
