The sun peaked at the highest bitter, bodies of sorts littered the ground of Mirkwood. Legolas Greenleaf stood admist these bodies. There were orcs, and elves among them and the air stunk of the steady reak of death and as usual the sun did not leak through the trees, and if it had the dark woods would be tinted red. The only way you could tell the sun was rising or not was if the trees reflected a sort of brilliance.
Legolas strode slowly through the bodies, waiting for some sign that his brother's had survived. The elf looked down at the carcass he was stepping over, it was an elf. It was not his brother but, all the same, it did pain him to see one of his kindred, a fellow elf of Mirkwood laying dead at his feet.
The prince passed each elf with a different expression dawning upon his complexions with each memory. A story for each elf ran through his memory like an old movie.
He shook his head, he had been sent out by the other warriors, and elves to find any survivors. He could not dawdle or risk open emotions when such importance was burdened upon his lean, graceful frame.
"Only if this story would end as a celebration," Legolas whispered underneath his breath. "Why can it not just end in a fairytale." The elf caught himself in his sentance, there was a mistake he had made, "Because, they're are no fairytale endings." and with that he sat down admist a circle of elven bodies and held back breaking tears.
Deep in emotional thoughts he was broken out of them with a moan and a plead for help. Head snapping up the elven prince gracefully swept forward and onto his feet in one swift motion, elven eyes scanning the broken silence. Darkness did not press around him, as a native it lit his way.
Trees swayed to the rythem of his heart beat, his steps not heard to the most acute sences. His precance unbeknownst he walked on. Ears ready for any other shreds of evidence or noise. And then it was again in the world, spiraling through the dence silence. The same moan of pain. He knew it was an elf, the dark gurgling sounds of orcs are easily noticed as of who they are.
The footsteps of the blonde elf never wavering he approached a break in the trees that lead to a small clearing, walking faster still, angel eyes still on the alert, pointed ears still acute he sped into the clearing.
The blue eyes swept the ground fast, and spotted one body. It was elven, the blonde hair falling gracefully around the dieing warrior. The blue eyes glazed over, slipping slowly out of life, brow covered in sweat, and the fair deft fingers holding still tightly to bow and a sword of elven make, a sword with markings Legolas recognised.
"Hiram!" Legolas shouted moving forward in a heartbroken grace. Falling to his knees he reached out and moved a lock of stray hair out of his brother's eyes. "Please, you can't die." The youngest son whispered in heart broken despair, but no how hard he tried to keep his brother in the world he could not save the elven man. Looking into the identical eyes of Hiram he recognised the living death creeping slowly into their midst, a cry left his lips as his brother's rigid body went limp in his arms, and stiffened.
"No!" Legolas called out into the darkness, the trees swaying slowed into sorrow, and stopped completely. "Quel esta, tenna' san'." Legolas placed his slender fingers onto his chest, and onto his brothers. Hoisting him up he walked through the darkness. Savering the woods and their comfort, praying of solitude in a warm bed until the day in which his father would return, and then he would tell him of the attack he lead and won, and the lives lost in the battle.
~~~*****~~~
The intricate designs of elven make lined the halls and banisters of Mirkwood buildings. The fingers of elves traced over them in a trance like way as Legolas passed them, his brother lay rested now in his room, on his bed until his father came home. Then they would bury him.
The leather shoed feet climbed the clean stairs up to the next level. The building was not large, but not small either. It was well built and worn, homey and peaceful. A air of tranquility flew through the air, and the elven prince opened his bedroom door and sat lightly onto the green blanketed bed. Laying back, a rest took hold of the victor, not a normal victor though. He did not recieve warm arms and wine when he swept back into the headquarters of royalty, but intead into a paniced frenzy.
The rest of the youngest Greenleaf was broken when a knock rang through his chambers, rolling over he let his feet fall onto the cool floor. The well toned elf stood and lit a candle on his bedside table. Hair sweeping over his shoulders he approached the door and opened it with not even a click.
"Yes, Reemah?" Legolas inquired, tired of being kept from rest and the welcoming dreamless sleep. The elf named Reemah stood from his bowing position and held out the scroll with a bandaged hand.
"What happened to your hand?" Legolas inquired taking the scroll, a elven crest sealing it. Reemah smiled grimly.
"Under your command I lived, but that didn't stop them from hurting me." Reemah grasped hold of Legolas' arm in reassurance, "It was not your fault, it was my own misapprehension that led me to my flaw." the brown clad elf turned, a sack of more scrolls strung over his arm. So they're were more, he wasn't the only one in trouble.
Closing the door the elf turned and headed back to his desk, laying out the parchment he scanned the paper. So he wasn't in trouble after all.
"Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood, Son of Thranduil, King of Northern Mirkwood.
You are needed in Rivendale as soon as time allows you. A council is to be held, Elrond shall be your host. More of your kindred and others of all races shall be there, up to four to represent each race and perspective.
Ride as fast as the wind shall carry you,
Arwen of Rivendale, Daughter of Elrond."
Legolas blinked once and rolled up the scroll, tucking it safely in the nearest horse pack he began to grab the nearest supplies. The day was wanning and not time would not stop for him. Throwing his cloak over his shoulders and fastening it tightly he grabbed his pack and headed across the room, something whispered in the back of his mind and he stopped abruptly. The cloak swished around him as he retraced his footsteps.
How he did, but he almost forgot extra weapons. The closet lay open and there were many unused arrows laying there. Scooping them up and slipping them into his quill he grabbed a clothe to clean his weapons he left the tranquil building and traveled to the stables.
"Nae saian luume'." a voice he recognised floated through the stuffy stables, smiling visibly he approached the elven female in charge of the horses. "Where have you been?" the blonde hair fanned out as she turned to smile at her, a horse brush in one hand, the reins of his white Arabian in the other.
"Mae govannen," Legolas replied, saddling his horse.The wind whispered and the window shutters shook. "I've been on the battlefield and resting." Legolas swung his pack over Sevet's back. The horse shifted with the new weight and he swung himself atop of her, ready to take off at full speed to Rivendale.
"Where are you going then, without a farewell hug or so soon after battle. Even before your father arrives." The girl smiled a glamoring shinning smile, one that would lay you down to rest. Sighing swung himself softly off of Sevet and gave his lover a quick hug.
"I don't know when I'll be back, but this is important." Legolas was soon atop of the restless horse, "Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'." And Legolas, on horseback, was cantering out of the stable, and soon dissapeared into the darkness.
~~~*****~~~
The sun shone ceaselessly, but the wind did not let up until he was a day from Rivendale. Even then a cload of dread hung over the traveling elf, what if this was declairing war, or worse.
Legolas Greenleaf did not have time to ponder over such things. All his mind was beant on reaching Rivendale before the meeting started.
The river running through the land set before the elven land greeted him with a babbling rush, a darkness he senced was set on it. Shaking his head of the thought he trotted his horse through the low water and galloped hard through the surrounding trees. Trees soon turned into blurrs and soon the blurry figures were thinning into nothing and he was trotting through the open gate into Rivendale.
Golden, red, green, orange, and purple leaves were floating to the ground around him and he looked up at the shedding tree. Swinging himself off of his horse he looked around with wonder.
Legolas was still a elf, but all elves had a different homeland, and this one was one of clear water and swaying trees of light. His was of tranquil darkness, and swaying trees of peace. Lothlorien, he still had to enter, and he was bent on doing so.
Walking forward he entered the midst of the Rivendale world, and made his way to the elf ready to greet him.
~~~*****~~~
After the council Legolas discovered the worst. Sauron wanted the ring back, and he and nine others were to acompany the ring bearer to Mordor where the ring of power would be thrown into the firey casm known as Mount Doom. Legolas was one of the nine, and the only elf, in the Fellowship.
Thats where his story began, was that council. The people and creatures of Middle-Earth won the war, they gained and lost friends.
One of the company, Boromir, was lost in a brave fight against the leader of the Uruk-hai. There was also a wizard, Gandalf Storm Crow. Another man, Aragorn heir and in the end, King of Gondor. A dwarf was there also, Gimli son of Gloin, he ended up Legolas' best friend. And lastly there were four hobbits, Samwise Gamgee, Peregrin Took, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and Frodo Baggins. Frodo Baggins, was the hobbit, the ringbearer that won the war.
But all the same, where there is an ending there is a beginning.
The orcs and uruk-hai that escaped harbored more of their beings and began to attack them with huge blows. And thats where the end of the War of the Ring began another war. The War of the Winter Rose.
Elvish Key
Quel esta, tenna' san': Rest well, until then
Nae saian luume': It has been too long
Mae govannen: Well met
Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au: My heart shall weep until it sees thee again
Legolas strode slowly through the bodies, waiting for some sign that his brother's had survived. The elf looked down at the carcass he was stepping over, it was an elf. It was not his brother but, all the same, it did pain him to see one of his kindred, a fellow elf of Mirkwood laying dead at his feet.
The prince passed each elf with a different expression dawning upon his complexions with each memory. A story for each elf ran through his memory like an old movie.
He shook his head, he had been sent out by the other warriors, and elves to find any survivors. He could not dawdle or risk open emotions when such importance was burdened upon his lean, graceful frame.
"Only if this story would end as a celebration," Legolas whispered underneath his breath. "Why can it not just end in a fairytale." The elf caught himself in his sentance, there was a mistake he had made, "Because, they're are no fairytale endings." and with that he sat down admist a circle of elven bodies and held back breaking tears.
Deep in emotional thoughts he was broken out of them with a moan and a plead for help. Head snapping up the elven prince gracefully swept forward and onto his feet in one swift motion, elven eyes scanning the broken silence. Darkness did not press around him, as a native it lit his way.
Trees swayed to the rythem of his heart beat, his steps not heard to the most acute sences. His precance unbeknownst he walked on. Ears ready for any other shreds of evidence or noise. And then it was again in the world, spiraling through the dence silence. The same moan of pain. He knew it was an elf, the dark gurgling sounds of orcs are easily noticed as of who they are.
The footsteps of the blonde elf never wavering he approached a break in the trees that lead to a small clearing, walking faster still, angel eyes still on the alert, pointed ears still acute he sped into the clearing.
The blue eyes swept the ground fast, and spotted one body. It was elven, the blonde hair falling gracefully around the dieing warrior. The blue eyes glazed over, slipping slowly out of life, brow covered in sweat, and the fair deft fingers holding still tightly to bow and a sword of elven make, a sword with markings Legolas recognised.
"Hiram!" Legolas shouted moving forward in a heartbroken grace. Falling to his knees he reached out and moved a lock of stray hair out of his brother's eyes. "Please, you can't die." The youngest son whispered in heart broken despair, but no how hard he tried to keep his brother in the world he could not save the elven man. Looking into the identical eyes of Hiram he recognised the living death creeping slowly into their midst, a cry left his lips as his brother's rigid body went limp in his arms, and stiffened.
"No!" Legolas called out into the darkness, the trees swaying slowed into sorrow, and stopped completely. "Quel esta, tenna' san'." Legolas placed his slender fingers onto his chest, and onto his brothers. Hoisting him up he walked through the darkness. Savering the woods and their comfort, praying of solitude in a warm bed until the day in which his father would return, and then he would tell him of the attack he lead and won, and the lives lost in the battle.
~~~*****~~~
The intricate designs of elven make lined the halls and banisters of Mirkwood buildings. The fingers of elves traced over them in a trance like way as Legolas passed them, his brother lay rested now in his room, on his bed until his father came home. Then they would bury him.
The leather shoed feet climbed the clean stairs up to the next level. The building was not large, but not small either. It was well built and worn, homey and peaceful. A air of tranquility flew through the air, and the elven prince opened his bedroom door and sat lightly onto the green blanketed bed. Laying back, a rest took hold of the victor, not a normal victor though. He did not recieve warm arms and wine when he swept back into the headquarters of royalty, but intead into a paniced frenzy.
The rest of the youngest Greenleaf was broken when a knock rang through his chambers, rolling over he let his feet fall onto the cool floor. The well toned elf stood and lit a candle on his bedside table. Hair sweeping over his shoulders he approached the door and opened it with not even a click.
"Yes, Reemah?" Legolas inquired, tired of being kept from rest and the welcoming dreamless sleep. The elf named Reemah stood from his bowing position and held out the scroll with a bandaged hand.
"What happened to your hand?" Legolas inquired taking the scroll, a elven crest sealing it. Reemah smiled grimly.
"Under your command I lived, but that didn't stop them from hurting me." Reemah grasped hold of Legolas' arm in reassurance, "It was not your fault, it was my own misapprehension that led me to my flaw." the brown clad elf turned, a sack of more scrolls strung over his arm. So they're were more, he wasn't the only one in trouble.
Closing the door the elf turned and headed back to his desk, laying out the parchment he scanned the paper. So he wasn't in trouble after all.
"Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood, Son of Thranduil, King of Northern Mirkwood.
You are needed in Rivendale as soon as time allows you. A council is to be held, Elrond shall be your host. More of your kindred and others of all races shall be there, up to four to represent each race and perspective.
Ride as fast as the wind shall carry you,
Arwen of Rivendale, Daughter of Elrond."
Legolas blinked once and rolled up the scroll, tucking it safely in the nearest horse pack he began to grab the nearest supplies. The day was wanning and not time would not stop for him. Throwing his cloak over his shoulders and fastening it tightly he grabbed his pack and headed across the room, something whispered in the back of his mind and he stopped abruptly. The cloak swished around him as he retraced his footsteps.
How he did, but he almost forgot extra weapons. The closet lay open and there were many unused arrows laying there. Scooping them up and slipping them into his quill he grabbed a clothe to clean his weapons he left the tranquil building and traveled to the stables.
"Nae saian luume'." a voice he recognised floated through the stuffy stables, smiling visibly he approached the elven female in charge of the horses. "Where have you been?" the blonde hair fanned out as she turned to smile at her, a horse brush in one hand, the reins of his white Arabian in the other.
"Mae govannen," Legolas replied, saddling his horse.The wind whispered and the window shutters shook. "I've been on the battlefield and resting." Legolas swung his pack over Sevet's back. The horse shifted with the new weight and he swung himself atop of her, ready to take off at full speed to Rivendale.
"Where are you going then, without a farewell hug or so soon after battle. Even before your father arrives." The girl smiled a glamoring shinning smile, one that would lay you down to rest. Sighing swung himself softly off of Sevet and gave his lover a quick hug.
"I don't know when I'll be back, but this is important." Legolas was soon atop of the restless horse, "Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au'." And Legolas, on horseback, was cantering out of the stable, and soon dissapeared into the darkness.
~~~*****~~~
The sun shone ceaselessly, but the wind did not let up until he was a day from Rivendale. Even then a cload of dread hung over the traveling elf, what if this was declairing war, or worse.
Legolas Greenleaf did not have time to ponder over such things. All his mind was beant on reaching Rivendale before the meeting started.
The river running through the land set before the elven land greeted him with a babbling rush, a darkness he senced was set on it. Shaking his head of the thought he trotted his horse through the low water and galloped hard through the surrounding trees. Trees soon turned into blurrs and soon the blurry figures were thinning into nothing and he was trotting through the open gate into Rivendale.
Golden, red, green, orange, and purple leaves were floating to the ground around him and he looked up at the shedding tree. Swinging himself off of his horse he looked around with wonder.
Legolas was still a elf, but all elves had a different homeland, and this one was one of clear water and swaying trees of light. His was of tranquil darkness, and swaying trees of peace. Lothlorien, he still had to enter, and he was bent on doing so.
Walking forward he entered the midst of the Rivendale world, and made his way to the elf ready to greet him.
~~~*****~~~
After the council Legolas discovered the worst. Sauron wanted the ring back, and he and nine others were to acompany the ring bearer to Mordor where the ring of power would be thrown into the firey casm known as Mount Doom. Legolas was one of the nine, and the only elf, in the Fellowship.
Thats where his story began, was that council. The people and creatures of Middle-Earth won the war, they gained and lost friends.
One of the company, Boromir, was lost in a brave fight against the leader of the Uruk-hai. There was also a wizard, Gandalf Storm Crow. Another man, Aragorn heir and in the end, King of Gondor. A dwarf was there also, Gimli son of Gloin, he ended up Legolas' best friend. And lastly there were four hobbits, Samwise Gamgee, Peregrin Took, Meriadoc Brandybuck, and Frodo Baggins. Frodo Baggins, was the hobbit, the ringbearer that won the war.
But all the same, where there is an ending there is a beginning.
The orcs and uruk-hai that escaped harbored more of their beings and began to attack them with huge blows. And thats where the end of the War of the Ring began another war. The War of the Winter Rose.
Elvish Key
Quel esta, tenna' san': Rest well, until then
Nae saian luume': It has been too long
Mae govannen: Well met
Cormamin niuve tenna' ta elea lle au: My heart shall weep until it sees thee again